Skip to main content

Crisis with Infinite "Canon of Probability" Violations


I decided to take this in a slightly different direction, mostly because of an amazing article I found but also, comic-books have more plot holes than any Stephen King novel so they felt like the very best subject to use when it comes to continuity and plot holes. Let me start by saying that I am not now, nor have I ever been, a comic nerd, at least, not on the level of my beloved older brother. I did, however, spend the better part of the 80s and 90s hearing "Lizzy!" (only he can call me that) "Lizzy! Check this out!" at which point a recently released comic would be shoved under my nose so that I could appreciate the amazing artwork while Jason explained to me the in and outs of that week's particular narrative. Because of this early and very heavy indoctrination I gained a deep appreciation for superheroes, though I've always preferred to take them in through movies and TV, animated or live action. 

It took me some time to begin noticing the inconsistencies and plot holes that seemed to be everywhere. I always overlooked it though, as just something that was a part of comics land. It wasn't until I started watching the DC universe shows on the CW and really getting into those characters that I started to learn more about the ways that comic books did, and often still do, violate their own canon of probability, and that's when I found out how comic book writers clear up fifty years worth of plot holes and improbabilities: they declare a crisis and kill f***ing everyone. 



If you aren't familiar with the DC comics universe, and the insanity of the 50s, 60s, and 70s post-WWII and Cold War story lines, as well as the (sometimes misguided) attempts at bringing in civil rights narratives and burgeoning women's and LGBTQ rights, you're missing out and it's almost impossible to sum it all up. By 1985, around DC's 50th anniversary,  the amount of heroes, villains, and story lines had reached an untenable level and this vast cast of characters was spread across a multitude of universes. Part of the reason for this multi-verse approach is because of continuity within the overarching narrative worlds. If a major character dies in his or her own story, this is going to affect any other series that may have utilized that character, even in a tangential way. This can affect story lines for years to come. If there is a world where "magic" isn't real, and a supposedly dead character comes into play and has powers because of an overarching, multi-book story line, those writers have to come up with a way to explain their presence. Whether this is through the Lazarus Pit, a dark matter explosion, alien technology, a deal with a demon/god, or a weird but eventually acceptable combo platter, the writers have to solve the problem. Unfortunately, plot holes and inconsistencies only get worse the longer they're allowed to exist. 

The other problem had to do with the sheer number of writers that had been working on these characters over the years. Comic book characters are the creations of many, many people from many different decades and sociopolitical leanings. You are inevitably going to end up with a character who has way too many layers to effectively navigate. For DC, the best, and really only way to deal with this, was to reboot their ENTIRE F***ING WORLD and also kill a lot of characters. Like, a lot of characters. Or just retconned their asses right out of existence. Just gone, man. 

"Crisis on Infinite Earths" essentially took all of the loose threads, spread across all of the many, many Earths, and pulled them into one "cohesive, metatextual tapestry that both appealed to long-time readers and brought in massive amounts of money" (Friedenthal). And while it was massively successful, Friedenthal describes it as " meandering, complicated, and not particularly easy to recount". This is to be expected of course, given the nature of what the DC was attempting. In the end, they created a specific character, called The Monitor, who would be the Big Bad of the series. He would pull heroes and villains together in his attempt to destroy all the worlds. It was huge, ambitious, and very successful, and it gave future comic book writers a good way to escape the plot holes that they would inevitably write themselves into. Of course, it led to the 1985 deaths of Barry Allen and Kara Zor-El but the new idea of rebooting would see to the return of these beloved characters in the future, with fresh and brand-new stories  that weren't bogged down by Cold War baggage.

"Crisis on Infinite Earths" was ground-breaking and incredibly important for an industry that was beginning to show its age. It created a way to salvage fan-favorites and also to take established characters and give them a twist, like the character of Batwoman. Batwoman (Kathy Kane) had originally been introduced in the 50s as a way to combat the rumors about Batman's sexuality. Interest in her was sparse and she was eventually made to have never existed in the Crisis story line, however, she was revived in 2006 during the "Infinite Crisis" story line (a sequel to the 20-year old Crisis) as Kate Kane, a Jewish lesbian crime fighter who takes over in Batman's absence. Instead of serving as a beard for a supposedly gay Dark Knight in a homophobic era, Kate Kane gained her own agency and a real, definable personality. 

So maybe infinite plot holes aren't always a bad thing, when they can lead to something so much better?


Works Cited

Friedenthal, Andrew J. "Monitoring the Past: DC Comics' Crisis on Infinite Earths and the Narrativization of Comic Book History." ImageTexT: Interdisciplinary Comics Studies. 6.2 (2012): n. pag. Dept of English, University of Florida. 25 February 2019. Web.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Melanie and Melanie: Growing up with Separated Lesbian Moms in the South

I came from a sperm bank, well I came from a vagina, but first I came from a sperm bank. That’s not generally my opener, but we need to make it clear. My moms discovered their sexuality long before I came along in 1992. When I was three, they separated. Gay marriage had not been legalized up to this point, so there was no divorce process involved. However, my mama, Sharon, she gave birth to me, and she wanted full custody of me. My other mom, Sylvia, worked tirelessly to pay for my existence and Sharon’s pregnancy care; she loved me, and I was her child no matter what. They went to court, and Sylvia became one of the first lesbian parents in the state of Texas to receive shared custody of a child that was not biologically hers. In some cases, this still doesn’t always happen, particularly in cases with gay and lesbian parents, regardless of how involved the parent is in their child’s life. “Who do you want to live with?” Flash forward seven years or so, and I’m being given more

Voices from Below

It is, to my mind, an undeniable fact that all areas of academic study benefit from the effective use of narrative. Literature, history, and the arts are natural candidates, yet even the maths and sciences can be enriched by including the human voices of those involved, telling us the story of what they discovered, how they did it, and what it means for humanity. What strikes me, though, is that the voices of those on the ground outside of the ivory tower of academe are still rarely heard, and even more rarely acknowledged and valued. In history, I want to hear more of the voices of those who did not "win," the so-called conquered peoples, the indigenous peoples, those crushed under the heel of imperialism. Some corrective measures have been taken to include these voices in the last few decades, but I know there is mountains more to be discovered. In the field of medical science, I want to hear the voices of those who unwillingly gave up their lives for our knowledge of

Needs more academic lingo

So I heard something funny on a podcast this weekend and it really struck a chord. The hosts, sweet souls that they are, were talking about people who become professors and how they must do it because they really care. After all, it’s not like they’re trying to get famous. I laughed, a lot, because seriously, what academic isn’t trying to make a name for themselves? Becoming faculty means writing and publishing, and getting your name out there while trying to break fresh ground on old material. That’s incredibly clear, given the amount of narrative theory ideas we read about this week.   And the more theories that are created, the more TERMS there are. They’re just everywhere… chrono-logic, fabula, sjuzet, catalyzers.   I mean, I get it, in the basics, but what kills me is how many  different ideas can be created to explain the how’s and why’s of story and narrative. I’ve tried to find a kind of unified theory of narrative theory, and so far, the names t