Names are such frightfully capricious things. You name something (or someone) and that name shapes your thoughts, influences your opinions, and generally stifles real impression-making. For example, say that chocolate were instead called bean curd. Or a judge, rather than being called "The Honorable Judge So-and-So" were instead referred to as, "Wig-Wearer and Hammer-Slammer, So-and-So."
This isn't pure diversion, I assure you. My name was once Jimmy Northstar. Unerring was my sense of direction, my ability to read the night sky and take my bearings from it's twinkling splendor. Later, I became James North... then Captain North... and now...
There are things that they never tell you about children's stories. The root of it, its reasons for being. Everything, after all, needs purpose. Do you recall the story of "The Pied Piper"? Modern renditions would have you believe that the piper held the town's children hostage until he received payment, but the original story had him merrily piping the children to their watery deaths in a raging river. Truly a story to show why it is important to keep your word and pay your debts. "Little Red Riding Hood" has the young girl getting directions to grandmother's house from the wolf, which she follows. The wolf then eats her. End. No woodsman, no grandma, no happily ever after. Just a stark warning to not take advice from strangers.
You know the modern version of Peter Pan's tale. I'm going to tell you the truth.
My name is Captain James North, known by history as Captain James of the Hook, or more simply as Captain Hook. I know Pan better than any who'll tell. I am his archenemy, his rival, his foil and his torment, and I was once his follower.
Jimmy Northstar, Lost Boy.
Captain Hook, Pirate.
See how names can be dreadfully useless things?