Starman: The Story of Prince Gavyn

There was never a time in my life that I didn't question if I could have had a better name. "Why would my parents name me this?" I'd ask myself. It started with kids pronouncing it "GAY-vyn." Of course, that got old. Not only the name, but I loathed the spelling of it. Why does it have to be with a "y"? 

Over time, I came to appreciate the originality of it. The only person I'd ever met with the same spelling was a girl I went to high school with, and I found that to be funnier than I would have years before. 

I think I appreciate the uniqueness more than I'd like to admit. Not only is the spelling different, but there's less than a thousand people in the world with my last name. 

Now, with that uniqueness, the digital world tends to compile everything I've ever done quite extensively. From youth baseball tournaments, football highlights, to court records and social media handles. I've concluded that my name is "SEO-friendly". 

I may be alone in this, but I get paranoid about my digital footprint. I search myself on Google maybe once a week to ensure nothing out there exposes the parts of my life I don't want people to know. I don't think I'm worth the exposure, nor do I think I'm doing anything I'd be worried about, but the paranoia remains.

During my scheduled self-stalk, I came across this Reddit forum that mentioned "Prince Gavyn". I wasn't aware of any prince in the world named Gavyn, so I clicked on it to reveal "Starman".

I've never felt so seen.

Steve Ditko, the creator of Spider-Man, did a short-lived DC series on Prince Gavyn, the exiled heir of Throneworld, in the late 70s. Out of all the names, here's a cosmic being from the Bronze Age of comics sporting my name. Not only did Ditko create my favorite superhero, but he also used my name. I told my mother as soon as I did some more digging, and she had no idea this existed either.

There's not much about him. He wasn't featured for long and was replaced by a much more popular version of Starman in the 90s.  

He was the son of Emperor Rilsorn the Eighteenth, ruler of the planet Throneworld. When his father died, Throneworld followed a strict tradition meant to prevent civil war. The chosen heir would ascend to the throne, and the unchosen heir would be executed to eliminate rivalry and instability.

Gavyn was not selected. The crown passed to his sister, Crysia.

Instead of ordering his execution, Crysia broke centuries of custom and exiled him to Earth. While in exile, Gavyn was attacked and left for dead, but the cosmic entity Mn’Torr intervened and transformed him into Starman, granting him cosmic powers and a new purpose.

As Starman, Gavyn eventually returned to defend Throneworld from outside threats. After the villain Mongul murdered Crysia and attempted to seize control of the empire, Gavyn confronted him, reclaimed his homeworld, and ultimately became its ruler.

He later died during the events of Crisis on Infinite Earths, bringing his story to an end in the original series.

It’s a strong, almost Hamlet meets Dune story, even if it feels reminiscent of many superhero tales. 

But the fact remains, there’s a Prince Gavyn in the world of heroes.

Although he’s a niche character, I felt seen by the namesake alone. That realization made me feel better about my name than I expected. Someone noble and powerful is named Gavyn. That feels new. That feels strangely comforting.

I’m not comparing this to something larger than it is. A name isn’t an identity struggle. But there’s something universal about seeing a piece of yourself reflected in fiction, especially when you didn’t expect it. Even something as small as a name can make you feel less isolated in your own head.

I went my whole life, admittedly self-conscious about my name. It probably doesn’t mean much to anyone but me. Still, there’s something special about connecting to fiction in this way.

I’d like to think I understand the feeling of being seen a little more now than I did before.