The Highlight Reel: A Stake of Humble Tin

There's a phrase you've probably heard dozens (if not hundreds) of times in today's hype-saturated comic book market.

"Nothing Will Ever
Be the Same Again!"

You'd think we'd learn after hearing it so many times.  After all, how many "nothing will ever be the same again" stories have actually delivered on that promise?

Well, one comic book story that actually did change things forever was The Amazing Spider-Man #121-122 (1973). The Death of Gwen Stacy not only changed the status quo of Spider-Man forever, but (arguably) of the entire superhero genre as well.

Crazy talk?  Well, I'm not the first one to note how the story seemed to herald (or perhaps spark) a darker form of storytelling. In fact, a similar sentiment was explored in Kurt Busiek and Alex Ross's MARVELS (1993), a brilliant metatextual "history" of Marvel's superheroes from the vantage point of average, everyday people.

Up until then girlfriends were saved, not killed....and supervillains either went to jail or (at worst) ambiguously "died" only to return a few years later. These issues of Spider-Man threw all of that out the window, signalling from that time onward that all bets were off.  Everyone was vulnerable, and nothing (no matter how horrible) was truly "off the table"....not even the death of a prominent cast member or arch-villain!

It's from the final few pages of this earthquake of a story that I've selected my scene for the Highlight Reel. Set-Up: Peter Parker's girlfriend Gwen Stacy was abducted and killed by the Green Goblin.  Later on, as Spider-Man, Parker explodes into the Goblin's warehouse lair, bent on revenge.  Written by Gerry Conway, pencilled by Gil Kane and inked by John Romita, experience a true comic book classic (click on the top and lower halves for larger views):

Man, that last line still gives me chills!

As intense as this scene remains after all these years, you can imagine what effect it had on me as a kid.  A jumble of triumph, relief, irony and, yes, even pity and horror....but permeating it all, a brutal sense of justice.  Heady stuff for a superhero comic book...especially for the early 70's!

The scene may look familiar to those who've seen the first Spider-Man movie, since its climactic final battle also involved a bat-glider piercing Norman Osborn (though, inexplicably, in the groin instead of the chest), but for sheer emotional impact, it can't touch the comic book version.  Though I appreciate director Sam Raimi's effort to bring it to life, it seemed to lose something in the translation to film.  It's only when you knew the long comic book history between Peter Parker and Norman Osborn, with its cat-and-mouse games of madness and blood, that you felt the true emotional impact of that bat-glider slamming Osborn to the wall.

Of course, as will happen in comics, Marvel foolishly undid the Green Goblin's death some twenty years later, thereby diminshing some of the scene's original power.  However, despite the retroactive tomfoolery, it remains one of the most dramatic scenes I've ever encountered in my three-plus decades of reading comics.

That is, despite my somewhat less-than-serious 30-Second Recap of the scene a few months back.

Comments

[Bobb]

And they also made a Gwen Stacy clone. Remember "In Soap Operas and Comic Books death is not always fatal". Even Bucky the patron saint of the Marvel Universe, (To copy a quote of Mark Waid about Barry Allen) is now back. Who next Uncle Ben?

Bobb

[Mark Engblom]

Well, even the Gwen clone wasn't actually the Gwen that Peter knew, unlike the actual Norman Osborn walking away from his little "chest injury".

[cinephile]

Brilliant, brilliant choice. I wasn't born yet (cough cough) when this story was first published, and caught up with it in the mid-80s when it was reprinted in Marvel Tales. By then, there'd been 12+ years of Spider-Man stories that followed, and Gwen Stacey was only a vague memory in the character's history, but i remember, even at 12 or 13, being caught up in the cinematic storytelling and high-stakes emotions of the narrative. For all of steve ditko's obvious brilliance, my favorite period of spider-man is actually 1966-1972, from John Romita through Gil Kane, when there's a perfect balance between superheroics and soap opera, and this tale is really the last gasp of that period (I'd also note the little three-issue coda to this tale, which introduces Luke Cage, and then uses a two-part story about Jameson's son to reflect on heroism and loss. A few issues later, the most overrated character in marvel history-- the punisher-- is introduced, and the silver age is most definitely finished).

[Mark Engblom]

I agree...the Romita/Kane period was the high point, but I also have to put the Ross Andru stint up there as well. After all, he was the first Spidey artist I came across, followed shortly by Romita in the Marvel Tales reprints (and back issues, of course).

You're right...with Gwen's death and the appearance of the Punisher some eight months later, it's pretty safe to say the Bronze Age was well under way.

[Tom the Bomb]

I agree on the handling of this story in the movie; as I said on the eve of the new movie, I think the filmmakers get too tempted to do an iconic story right away, in case there's no sequel (http://sensesshattering.blogspot.com/2007/05/spider-man-on-film-part-2-green-goblin.html).

Having just finished the lastest Essentials collection of Amazing Spider-Man, I got to read the 5-issue arc featuring Green Goblin III, Bart Hamilton, in Amazing 176-180. While he didn't last long and will never be remembered in Osborne's league, it's still a fun story that's something of a trial run for the Hobgoblin. As I read more DC lately, I wonder why the Distinguished Competition is able to create so many legacy characters - those who take over a fallen hero or villain's role - and actually have them succeed - Green Lanterns, Flashes, etc. Whereas Marvel's legacy characters are almost always seen as weak pretenders - they almost never stick.

Sometimes the great ones need to stay dead to be remembered fondly.