Exactly seven years of Homestuck found their end today. It’s been a long, crazy journey.
Normally I prefer to observe fandoms from outside, cooing over their adorable degree of love for their object of worship. This is a trick worth learning, since “urgh, but the fandom” is approximately the least meaningful objection to a work it is possible to make. However, that story is for another time.
Homestuck has consumed years of my life even as a non-fan. Even just reading along, picking up a small collection of some fanart, buying some of the albums, re-reading it to re-acquire familiarity for the ending, it is still a vast icon that is, in its own words, ensconced in my personal mythos.
What I am fumbling to say is, I really loved that webcomic.
The crazy jokes. The constant internal references. The nigh-incomprehensible plot. The charming characters and the not-so-charming characters and the “please stop adding these abominations to the story” characters. The music. Great interstellar abysses, the music.
It dragged on. It would be disingenuous to say otherwise, for sure. If it were being adapted for any other medium, the first thing to do would be to attack the plot with the kind of weedkillers kept in reserve for “invasion of genocidal plant-aliens” scenarios. I loved that, too.
There are very, very few things that I have ever wished I could forget entirely and experience for the first time again. That particular fantasy holds little appeal to me, since experiencing other new things is always an option. But Homestuck is unique, I think, in that I might choose to forget it entirely so I could read it again for the second time. To be sure, there are things in there that burn the brightest on the first iteration – the incredible flash animations stand out – but there’s just so much that simply doesn’t make sense except in the context of what comes later. This feeling, perhaps, is what people get out of “complex” literary fiction (the kind I am quick to dismiss as pretentious (because it almost always is)).
I wish I could summarise it briefly. I wish words could say how inadequate words are for this purpose. I wish a lot of things, really.
I’m not ready for it to be over. And I’m ever so glad that it is.
To Andrew Hussie and the rest of the team: my heartfelt thanks and admiration. Today, your work enters the legend. You made it happen.
To anyone reading this who somehow never read it: start here. If you don’t like it by the end of Act 2, definitely drop it. Otherwise, well. See you soon.