The concept of a retcon applies anywhere that new information changes something about a story. It’s most commonly seen when a later piece of media (e.g. a new book in a series) — whether through clarification or contradiction — makes the audience view an earlier event differently (e.g. Sherlock Holmes actually survived).
For the most part, the changes are relatively benign: tweaking details so things can flow more easily into a sequel, prequel, or spin-off. For example, when Portal 2 was released, the ending of the first game was changed slightly to imply the player is recaptured. Where it can get contentious is when the change undermines the plot or theme of the earlier work, or when a character’s behaviour becomes inconsistent.
That’s not really what I’m thinking about today, though.
In ye olde dayes, a new book or movie would be the most likely way to encounter a retcon. Then came the internet. Now, just to take an example at random, imagine a popular childrens’ book about an orphan potato growing up with a family of turnips, only to be taken away to a mystical school for clairvoyants1. After the book is finished, the writer continues to give interviews, and make tweets, adding more information about the world or the characters that wasn’t present in the original text.
This scenario presents a rather unique “is it canon” dilemma. Most retcons are in service of later works2, but here we have a somewhat-haphazard collection of factoids, delivered through various channels, making it nigh-impossible to rule on what should (or should not) be included. I unfortunately don’t have an answer to that, but instead want to present a perspective that I haven’t seen come up elsewhere.
Most complaints about this type of apocrypha focus on whether it’s something made up later (for example to improve the representation of kumara3 in an otherwise spud-centric narrative), or whether it’s a detail that the author had planned in advance and it never came up in the story. Authors differ in their method, but it’s fairly common for them to prepare copious reference notes about characters’ traits, backstories, etc. that may or may not become relevant to the plot.
While post-hoc diversity is a valid criticism (works should be recognised in their original cultural context, for good or ill), even if the “facts” the author is doling out, like an elderly relative apportioning Werther’s Originals, are not just off-the-cuff decisions after one-too-many Chardonnays, they may still conflict with what’s in the finished work.
Because they’re not in the finished work.
At the point when the author is working through a scene, and reaching for their notes to remind themselves of some detail about a character that’s about to become pivotal to them surviving when the chips hit the fan, that detail becomes part of the story. And will get edited and tweaked as the work approaches its final form.
Random factoids from an author’s notes are “true”, but they’re the first draft of truth. As such, they shouldn’t supercede what’s stated (or even implied) by the finished work.
1 They help him to open his third eye. And become a prognostitater.
2 Which can be included/excluded as fans see fit, but at least form a coherent unit.
3 Also known as a “sweet potato” in some parts of the world.
Thought Attempts 