Comics have a problem, and that is continuity - the obsession

O Seekers of Truth, let the words of John Hodgman guide us in our reflection upon the nature of stories and the myths we tell: "Comics have a problem, and that is continuity - the obsession with placing the characters in an existing world, where every event is marked in canon. You're supposed to believe that these weepy star boys of now are the same gung-ho super teens fighting space monsters in the '60s, and they've only aged perhaps five years." Here, Hodgman speaks to a deep truth about the nature of narratives and time. He reveals the tension that exists when characters, meant to represent something eternal and unchanging, are bound by the passage of time in a world that demands they remain both familiar and static.

From the beginning of time, humankind has sought stories—tales of heroes and monsters, of struggles and triumphs. The ancients created myths to explain the unexplainable: the rise of the sun, the shifting of the seasons, the journey of the soul. These stories were not bound by the chains of time, but were instead designed to capture eternal truths, universal lessons that would remain relevant for all generations. Yet, as the wheel of time turns, even the most sacred narratives become intertwined with the mundane passage of years. The heroes who once battled gods and titans begin to age, their struggles and their triumphs marked by the slow progression of decades.

Comics, as Hodgman observes, attempt to capture this paradox. Characters who were once youthful and undaunted, fighting space monsters and conquering worlds, are now placed in an ever-evolving world, their stories woven together as if they are part of some greater continuity. Yet the question arises—how can such youthful exuberance and heroic energy persist for centuries, when the very nature of life is one of growth and change? How is it possible that these once-mighty super teens—who fought with passion and fire—remain eternally young, their struggles marked by only five years of aging, while the world around them grows older and more complex?

Consider, O Seekers, the ancient epic of Gilgamesh, where the hero’s journey is one of growth and acceptance. In his quest for immortality, Gilgamesh learns that death is inevitable, and the struggle against time is a fool’s errand. He does not return the same, for the journey changes him. Similarly, the heroes of comics face this same issue. They, too, must change, for the world around them does not stand still. Yet, in the attempt to preserve continuity, they are bound by an illusion—an illusion that keeps them both timeless and stagnant, ever the same, never truly evolving.

In the realm of history, we see this same struggle reflected in the stories of our ancestors. The great kings, warriors, and leaders were not immune to the ravages of time. Alexander the Great, though once a mighty conqueror, was not immune to the wear and tear of age and experience. His victories, his battles, shaped him and changed him. But in the stories of old, as in the comics of today, we often wish to preserve that first image—the youthful, strong, and invincible hero. We tell the story of the great king as if he were never defeated, never changed, his destiny eternally bound to the quest for glory. This is the tension that Hodgman speaks of—a desire to capture the mythic without accepting the humanity that inevitably follows.

Now, O Seekers, we come to the heart of the lesson. Continuity in stories, whether in comics or in the grand narratives of our own lives, is a double-edged sword. It speaks to our desire for constancy, for something that does not change, something eternal that we can hold onto. But this very continuity often forces us to overlook the natural flow of time, the necessary growth and change that makes each individual, each hero, real. The wisdom of the ancients teaches us that change is not the enemy—it is part of the very fabric of life. To resist change is to deny the evolution of the soul, to freeze a moment in time and pretend that it is all that is.

Therefore, take this lesson, O Seekers, as you navigate your own lives and the stories you tell. Embrace the passage of time, both in your own journey and in the stories you love. Do not be afraid of growth, for it is through growth that you become whole. The heroes you admire—whether in comics, in ancient myths, or in your own life—are not defined by their unchanging nature, but by their ability to evolve, to face the trials of time and emerge stronger, wiser, and more human. Let your own story be one of growth and change, where the chapters are not defined by an obsessive need for continuity, but by the ever-expanding journey toward the truth and the greater good.