How I learned To Accept Comics Canon (Almost)

Finding The Line Between Respecting The Legacy And Creative Freedom

“Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to.” - Kylo Ren, Star Wars: The Last Jedi

It may seem strange to open an essay about canon in comics using a quote from a (very awful) Star Wars movie, but it fits in more ways than one. In The Last Jedi, Kylo Ren says the oft-memed line in his attempt to convince Rey she needs to cast off the past in order to ascend into whatever she’s meant to be. The past, and all the emotional baggage that comes with it, is holding her back from moving on...from growing. But is that same sentiment true for comics characters? Does the past only hold back creative teams from taking their characters to the next level of storytelling? The answer, unsurprisingly, is both yes and no.

Superheroes Are People, Too

Storytelling is at the root of our culture as a species. It’s how we pass down knowledge and understanding about the societies we’ve created for ourselves over many millennia. It’s how we learn from those who’ve come before us through politics, war, science and every source of learning you can imagine. Storytelling defines our perceptions of history, and it’s the foundation by which we develop the rules and norms that form our world. In short, storytelling is the mechanism we use to define our reality.

When we talk about superheroes and comicbooks, we’re talking about a form of entertainment that speaks to the basic way we live on this planet. That’s why everyone can relate to comic books on some level. Everyone understands stories.

Comics characters, hero or villain, hold special importance for us as the central figures of the stories we remember and pass down. The key, however, is not characters that simply exist within the events of the story. The characters are active participants, and it’s the characters’ actions that define them and affect the story itself. Largely, the character’s attributes (what they look like, where they’re from, who their parents are) are irrelevant compared to the choices they make and whether or not we believe their part in the stories they inhabit.

Do I believe a teenager can cling to walls and swing on web shooters? No, but I do believe a teenager could find the courage to take on great responsibility after receiving great power, especially when shirking that responsibility costs him the life of his Uncle Ben.

Do I believe a grown man would dress up like a bat and develop high-tech gadgets to fight villains? No, but I believe a man with the means and opportunity would go to great lengths to prevent another child from losing loved ones through an act of criminal violence.

Do I believe a meek and mild scientist would turn into a super-strong, green giant whenever he gets angry? No, but I believe a gentle person who’s been cursed with a very dangerous power would do everything possible to either contain it, destroy it, or use it to help others, if he could.

In these short synopsis about Spider-Man, Batman and the Hulk, we find people. People placed in extraordinary circumstances and given extraordinary abilities but who make very human decisions. We don’t...truly can’t...relate to somebody who can fly and leap tall buildings, but we can relate to being in difficult situations and doing the best we can with what we have. The characters that endure are the ones who act like ordinary people, even when there’s nothing ordinary about them.

That’s where canon comes into play...

Santayana Got It Right

Famed Spanish philosopher George Santayana coined the phrase: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”, and two of the lessons gleaned from this deceptively simple saying is that “the lessons of the future come from the mistakes of the past” and conversely “those who don’t learn from their mistakes will never grow.” Those two points may sound like the same thing, but it’s really looking at the systems of life and how the events that move us forward can also be the same thing that hold us back.

Applying those life lessons is where canon derives its value. Canon doesn’t exist simply as a list of historical events that demand adherence at all costs. Canon, in the context of comics, are the stories that contain lessons that move characters from the past into the future. Not the future composed only of time and location, but the future version of that character as we know and accept him or her today.

Let’s take a look at an, arguably untouchable, event in canon that wasn’t some form of editorial revisionism, but it was an event that changed a character for the better.

Peter Parker is bitten by a radioactive spider and granted amazing abilities. He then promptly uses those powers for fame and fortune. When Peter refuses to stop a robber because it “wasn’t his problem”, he pays the price for his ambivalence when that same robber later kills his Uncle Ben. That sequence of historical events leads to a fundamental change of Peter’s attitude about right, wrong, power and responsibility. To change that part of the story (i.e. eliminate canon) in Spider-Man mythos, would be to erase a core component of that character’s nature. Spider-Man never forgets the pain and regret of his uncle’s death. It fuels the decisions he makes. It forms the basis of his relationships. It keeps him grounded because Peter understands, as well as anyone, that lives are lost when those who can do something choose to do nothing.

Without this story in Spider-Man’s history and the canonical change it catalyzes in his life, Spider-Man would not be the character he is today. Who’s to say if he would have endured as long as he has if he hadn’t learned that very important lesson? However, there’s more to learning lessons that makes the characters great. For the characters to be believed and their evolution accepted, they first have to make the same mistakes we make every day and show us their flaws.

To Err is Human…

As much as the capacity for greatness is what’s so special about humanity, we are equally defined by the awareness of our own flaws. Biblical references aside, there's no such thing as a perfect person, and within storytelling, it is our ability to recognize and relate to the flaws in a character that allows us to connect with that character. Conversely, a written character that’s perfect in every way and never makes a mistake is nearly impossible to accept because they’re missing a crucial element of humanity.

Taken another step further, it’s not enough to have flaws, but those flaws must have consequences. In the previous example of Spider-Man’s origin story, he allowed himself to become self-important and narcissistic when he gained his powers. That’s a flaw. But the flaw, left unchecked, resulted in his uncle’s death. The pain of that loss is the consequence for not addressing his flaw. The burden of guilt and responsibility then forces Peter Parker to evolve. It’s almost formulaic in how it plays out in countless characters throughout comics history:

Character flaw(s) → Bad Decision(s) → Painful Consequence(s) → Personality Growth

This sequence applies equally to heroes and villains alike. The key difference being most villains either choose not to learn from the consequences of their bad decision, or worse, go down an even darker path.

This all falls in line with the importance of canon and its part in the evolution of a character. Without the events, either through Fate or as a result of bad decisions, there is no consequence for the character to experience.  The motivation behind growth, evolution, change and maturity is lost. When you discard canon that contains those character-altering events, there is no rationale for how the character you know comes to be. It’s no different than a fully grown adult trying to interact with the world when they never had the experience of growing up. It just doesn't work.

Superheroes As Updated Legends

Up to this point, I’ve been picking on poor Peter Parker, but the archetype he, and many other comics characters we recognize today, embodies goes back thousands of years. For example, there are multiple stories of an innocent child cast out from his home to avoid death and being raised by caring, adoptive parents. That child eventually grows to fulfill one or more acts of greatness. Comic book fans would instantly  assume that story is about Superman, and they would be right. However, that story could equally apply to Jesus (New Testament Bible), Moses (Old Testament Bible), Perseus (Greek Mythology), and even Luke and Leia Skywalker (Star Wars). In essence, many of the characters we revere today in popular culture are simply updated versions of archetypes that were invented long ago.

The Justice League is an almost one-for-one version of the Greek gods of Mt. Olympus. Again picking on poor Peter Parker, the teenage boy. granted great power to fight much more powerful foes, could just as easily be a modern twist on David and Goliath. Marvel’s Thor is literally a modified version of the actual Thor from Norse mythology. The list of examples goes on and on.

In other words, the comics and characters that affect us the most - the characters that endure - speak to fundamental models that have been around since before the invention of the written word. There’s an innate set of human qualities embodied in these superhuman beings. To a fault, they’re born to some great destiny, they’re flawed, they either learn from the consequences of their flaws (heroes) or reject the responsibility for their flaws (villains). Major events that are not instigated by their flaws change them to become something more. We relate to that story in every permutation and will continue to do so as long as stories are told.

"We [the USA] don't have a mythology of our own... until you start getting Kit Carson and Davey Crokett and Paul Bunyon and things like that, and I think superheroes are a modern extension of that. They are something unique to us."

-Chris Claremont, Prisoners of Gravity: Season 2, Ep. 26 - "MYTHS AND ARCHETYPES"

But the lesson is not rigid adherence to the story, or else every story would be exactly the same. Storytellers can tell completely different takes on the same characters with complete success - when they keep what matters.

Where Do We Draw The Line?

The line between canon and creative freedom is a tricky one, and frankly, different for every character and story that a creator wants to tell. The unavoidable step to telling the story that continues to resonate with readers without alienating existing fans is research. A writer brought on to an existing property needs to take the time to get to know and understand the characters - How did they come to be? What drives and motivates them? What are the defining moments in that character's history? How did the outcome of those events change the character for better or worse?

Once an adequate profile for the existing character is defined, the creator can rewrite the events that fill the in-between of that character's life without risk of “breaking” canon. Picking on poor Peter Parker again...if Spider-Man’s 17th battle with Sandman or Green Goblin was erased from history, it likely wouldn’t make any difference to anyone other than as a historical oddity. Erase the death of Gwen Stacy and the events that lead up to it, and Peter Parker’s views on love and relationships becomes drastically altered. Gwen Stacy’s death fuels his need to protect his secret identity so that the danger of his alter ego doesn’t endanger the ones he loves. Gwen Stacy’s death is a defining event for Peter Parker. Erasing that piece of canon “breaks” a piece of Spider-Man unless it’s replaced with an alternate story that has a similar effect.

The same approach applies for the future as well as the past. Any creator intending to preserve the integrity of the character should consider the following key questions:

1. Will this new story invalidate a defining event for this character?

2. Will this story nullify the consequences of a character’s flaw(s)?

3. Will this story force the character to grow/change so as to affect every story from this point forward?

If the answer to all three questions is ‘no’, a creator essentially has freedom to do anything and everything without “breaking” the character. A ‘yes’ to some or all those questions comes with significant risk and should not be taken lightly in the creative process. Changing a character for change’s sake without considering the consequences risks eliminating a key event or decision that changes the character into effectively a different person. Done haphazardly, Spider-Man is no longer Spider-Man or at least is Spider-Man in name only, and the probability of reader rejection escalates.

Conclusion

Creators have wrestled with the specter of canon as long as the concept of intellectual property has existed. The constant push-pull of satisfying existing fans while trying to bring something new to well-trodden territory can seem like a daunting task, but it need not be with the right preparation. 

First and foremost, create fantastical worlds and situations, but remember the characters are relatable in the humanity of their decisions. Characters make those decisions out of their very human flaws and how those flaws have affected them up to this point.

Don’t negate the consequences of their flaws, and don’t retroactively erase the big moments in a characters life that have pushed them to change and mature into their present version. It all starts with research.

Do your research. Keep what matters, discard what doesn’t, and create stories that make the characters better (both good and evil) rather than different for the sake of being different.

What do you say, intrepid reader? Is canon synonymous with creative restriction or is it integral to the storytelling process? Comment below and let me know what you think.