The Dotted Logline

Where to begin. Paul Cornell, a writer who (among many other things) scripted a two-parter for Series 3 of Doctor Who (which I’m waiting on pins and needles for) posted a blog about canonicity in Doctor Who, mentioning that fans of BtVS are much more willing to accept things outside of the TV show, such as the upcoming Season 8 comic (which I’m waiting on pins and needles for), as being part of the series canon. This lead to a debate of epic proportions on Whedonesque about canon vs continuity vs interpretation, if Eurasia is located on Pluto and/or evil, and if color-blind people are considered valuable members of reality. The debate is still ongoing and has prompted Paul Cornell to to issue an apology for instigating a “row” (an argument that can be traced back to someone British) and to make the strange assumption that all Joss Whedon fans like rye bread.

Since I have been in the thick of things writing some long quasi-intelligent posts (and some short, stupid, not terribly funny ones), I thought I’d try and compile my thoughts into one semi-coherent blog entry.

Canon vs. Interpretation

Pretty much every single fan in any fandom will have a slightly different view of the meaning of the events in any creative work. I’ve always been a strong believer in Reader-response theory. Authorial intent can only go so far when your work is being read by someone who brings an entirely different perspective/set of beliefs and life experiences to the table. In fact, as long as it doesn’t degenerate into nonsense like shipping wars, I’ve always loved debates about different perspectives of a creative work.

But at the same time, it does get ridiculous when people get so wrapped up in their own view of a fictional world that they’ll disregard something that is blatantly official canon just because they don’t agree with it. I think it’s fine to disagree with the direction a creator chooses to steer their creation (say, the Star Wars prequels), but if your solution is to close your eyes, plug your ears, and hum the Sesame Street theme in an attempt to pretend it doesn’t exist, you’re delving a bit too close to delusion. As much as these fictional worlds can mean to us, if we can’t accept the fact that they have flaws, we’re doing them and their creators a grave disservice.

The thing to keep in mind is that canon, as established by an authority (often the creators or owners of the property) stands separate from readers/viewers/fans. How we interpret a story can alter our view of the story, certainly, perhaps even the view of others if we can convince them to join our way of thinking, but it doesn’t alter the existence of the story itself. A reader saying “I don’t think _____ is canon” is like a person saying “Pluto really IS a planet.” They can say it all they want. The can even believe it. But they aren’t the authority that has been established to make such decisions for the general public. Canon isn’t necessarily set in stone for the rest of history, but can only be changed by those with the authoritative power to do so.

Canon vs. Continuity

Canon generally supersedes continuity (continuity in the comic book sense), since events in canon can alter the story’s continuity, not to mention the fact that different characters can have personal continuities. For example, in the first season of Angel, the events of “I Will Remember You” were erased from history by the Oracles, though Angel retained his memories of them. So they’d be part of Angel’s continuity but not Buffy’s, since for her they literally never happened.

The Buffyverse is rife with continuity changes due to timeline alterations. However, there seems to be a difference between actual changes in the timeline (the Oracles erasing a day, Anyanka creating the Wishverse, Illyria slaughtering Team Angel in her time jumps) versus perceived changes due to altered memories and such (the monks creating Dawn, Cyvus Vail changing Conner’s history.) The first case seems to result in altered continuity where events cease to exist or are relegated to an alternate universe, though some characters (especially Angel) sometimes remember that they did in fact occur at one point. The second has an odd doubling effect where the original continuity is known and understood by the characters once the truth is revealed, yet the existence of the “false” continuity still has an effect on events (Dawn knowing Angel even though she was actually created after he left town, Conner’s thankfully permanent personality change.) Although all of these events generally involve altering continuity, they only add to the canon. Nothing else in the canon is rewritten or removed.

Some might argue that retcons alter the canon, but they generally just offer a deeper truth/different perspective, which would go back to interpretation. Plus, it isn’t required for canon to have flawless continuity.

You Gave Me A Headache With That Continuity/Timeline Nonsense

Sorry. I’ve always looked at it this way. There is a universal continuity/timeline and a personal continuity/timeline. The universal timeline is a single set of linear events that is generally shown to be self-repairing (conflicting events erased or considered an “alternate universe”) with the occasional instance of circular causality (as in the first Terminator movie.) A personal timeline is also a series of linear events as seen from the perspective of any particular person.

In the real world (and in most fiction), the universal and personal timelines are identical. When you get into stories involving time travel and alternate dimensions and such, the two timelines differ. Take Angel, for example. In the episode of Angel mentioned above, the events the Oracles erased are no longer a part of the universal timeline or Buffy’s timeline, but they are still a part of Angel’s. To much of the universe, Angel may appear to be a certain age, but that doesn’t take into account the time he spent in that hell dimension, his day with Buffy, his minutes or hours timejumping with Illyria, etc. In this case, his personal timeline from his birth to the present is quite a bit longer than the universe’s for that same period of time.

The second issue of Graphic Novel Review is out. I’m very excited to have my first In Depth Review published. It is on a little book called Egg Story, which I hope will garner some well-deserved readers from the review. A lot of other great reading in GNR as well, so be sure to check it out!

The premiere issue of Graphic Novel Review, a new online journal for casual graphic novel readers, has launched. It is edited by my friend and fellow Emersonion Alexander Danner. I also contributed a review-in-brief (my first paid publication), but it is one of the less interesting things to read. Be sure to check it out!

While reading the latest issue of a certain popular comic book, I realized that one of the things that make mainstream superhero comics so fun is how often you find yourself saying “Hey! I thought he/she was dead!” This used to be fairly common in anime as well, but in some of the more recent series I’ve seen, the current trend seems to be “Let’s kill off beloved characters completely out of the blue and not bringing them back except in the angst-filled memories of other characters that will drive them to suicidal behavior.” And that isn’t nearly as much fun. True, killing off characters unexpectedly creates buckets of tension, but it is of the one-note variety. Bringing people back from the dead, literally or figuratively, instigates all sorts of interesting chaos.

I moved back home a few days ago, and while going through a number of items I had on order that had piled up, I ended up reading Mystique Volume 1 and watching Feat of Clay parts I and II from BtAS in the same day. Though I wouldn’t consider either to be literary masterpieces, they did delve into the psychology of appearance and identity in interesting ways.

While superheroes often deal with concept of identity, they are themes that are easily found in mainstream lit: dual identities, one’s place in society, etc. But shapeshifting pushes the concept of identity beyond the realm of the familiar. If you can be anyone or anything, why do you choose to be who or what you are? And if you can be anyone, is there really a definitive you?

Issues like this are what I love about speculative fiction. There are only so many ways of looking at normal human issues. Sometimes, to really learn something new about yourself, you need to look at outside of their expected limits of human experience.

If I had read more articles as fun as this little beauty, I might not have spent so many years thinking that journalism was utterly boring. This article had me in stitches. It’s written as a letter from Wolverine to Superman about Bryan Singer possibly directing the long-delayed Superman movie. I need to look up more about the writer, Joal Ryan. Some of my favorite quotes:

“But you–you conniving Kryptonian–you pretend you’re all about truth, justice and the American way, when all you’re really about is getting back on the big screen anyway, anyhow.”

“Superman, you are like the messed-up hot chick who can’t keep a guy… Got quite a collection of ex-suitors there, don’t you? (Say, do you keep their pictures on a wall in the Fortress of Solitude–maybe next to your Lois Lane shrine?–you nutball stalker.)”

“P.S.: Superman III sucked.
P.P.S.: Superman IV sucked worse.”

As for the subject of the article, I would be disappointed if Bryan Singer didn’t helm X-Men 3 due to a Superman movie. Aside from never having been much of a Superman fan (he’s just too Super… I like heroes with more humanity and angst), X2 might just be my favorite comic book movie to date. I felt that it had the closest-to-perfect blend of action and emotional conflict I’ve seen on the big screen (much better than a certain arachnid everyone seems to be obsessed with.) And with the ending of X2 being what it was, the third movie has a lot to live up to.

From what I’ve heard of about Bryan Singer, he seems to be a great director to work with. In commentaries and such for the two X-Men movies, those who worked with him couldn’t seem to give him enough praise. I really like the following comment he made in one of the featurettes on the X2 extras DVD:

“A film is not like a book or a painting. A film is made by thousands of people. And I’m kind of a funnel through which all their talents pass. So in that sense, it could be called my vision, but it’s really my vision of their visions.”

I very much like his way of putting it. With so much focus on movies “belonging” to the director (hooray for auteur theory), it’s nice to hear a director genuinely acknowledge the other creative input into a film while not diminishing his own role at the helm.