Rider's Soapbox: Spider-Man No More

For the first time in over a quarter century, yesterday I submitted a comic book order form without buying The Amazing Spider-Man. I am boycotting Marvel Comics in my own insignificant way for disrespecting me as a loyal fan of their flagship character.

I'm not going to rehash the reasons in detail, but I poked fun at them here and here.* The truth is, though, I was trying to laugh off something controversial that was gnawing away in my wooden block head like an angry termite. I'll explain by way of a hypothetical question.

Lost fans: Would you still watch if your favorite character never evolved? Would the show be nearly as good if Jack never moved beyond his whiny bitch phase or Sawyer never put on glasses and read a book? Or are you just about the mythology?

Whatever you might think of comic books as a storytelling medium, the Marvel ones have always been about change and growth. Peter Parker was 15 when he was bitten by a radioactive spider in 1962, and 28 issues later he graduated high school. Meanwhile, over in the DC Universe, Clark Kent hadn't changed his station in life since 1938.

Since I started reading Spidey's adventures (beginning with the issue to the left), I saw Peter finish college, go to graduate school, get married, watch a best friend die, lose a baby daughter, and change his vocation to high school teacher. And just before I officially came onboard, the love of his life was murdered. Ramifications of these events have been felt throughout the character's history.

Marvel Comics have always been grounded in reality. They've got Manhattan instead of Metropolis. They've got flawed heroes who are regarded with suspicion instead of legends in their own time. That's key when you want fictional characters to be relatable to their readers. Growing up, I identified more with a skinny loser than a chiseled alien from another planet who was perfect in every way.

Joe Quesada, editor-in-chief of Marvel, made the decision to hit the reset button on Spider-Man's life. He says he did it because it's good for the character. He says no one wants to read about a married superhero--but he also says no one wants to read about a divorced hero, either. Because, I guess, we don't live in a country where 50% of marriages fail and no one would relate.

So in a line of comics where science was responsible for the origins of its most popular characters, Quesada employed magic as the deus ex machina which nullified most of Peter's significant character development. That's like the Wachowskis explaining that Neo is actually a jolly leprechaun in The Matrix.

I was ten when I first picked up a Spidey comic, and I matured with the character as I grew up. I understood the pain of loved ones dying and the joy of getting married and the uncertainty of changing careers.

But this new Peter Parker is not the Peter Parker I grew up with. He might look the same and he still "does whatever a spider can," but I don't want to start over with him. I already did that eight years ago when Ultimate Spider-Man relaunched the character for the new millennium. It's implicit that this new Peter is going to remain emotionally retarded and never mature. That's just not true to the character as he was presented by Stan Lee.

The Spidey I knew has been de-evolved to appeal to a younger generation--and there's nothing wrong with that--but there are several other titles featuring a younger Spidey minus the "baggage," so it's not like Marvel didn't have alternatives for new readers. Besides, I'm a stalwart fan who already saw Peter's coffee shop years. I mean Friends is a funny show and all, but Pete's done that and been there and now he's sentenced to reruns.

It was a bad call for the right reasons, but the execution was insulting. I wiped Quesada's spit from my face after reading that last issue. He's like a father who says, "We're moving and it'll be a Good Thing," then you get to the new place but your bedroom is smaller than your old one.

"Hold on, pally" Quesada/Dad says, clapping you on the back, "we can add to it."

Fuck you, Dad. It still smells funny here.

So I'm done with The Amazing Spider-Man for now. Marvel won't get the additional nine bucks a month out of me. I'll be back for the issue where Peter and MJ shower together and laugh about the bad dream that never happened.

Then they can get divorced and start a brand new day.

* That first post generated more traffic here than anything else I've done, even before it was linked to by one of the most popular comics-related blogs on the Interweb.