Giant-Size Spider-Man #5. Man-Thing and the Lizard

(Cover from July 1975.)

"Beware The Path Of The Monster!"

Written by Gerry Conway.

Drawn by Ross Andru.

Inked by Mike Esposito/Dave Hunt (Hunt uncredited).

Letters by Arty Simek.

Colours by Petra Goldberg.

Curt Connors really is a wally. Leaving aside the fact that, in this tale, he and writer Gerry Conway both seem to have forgotten that his surname's spelt "Connors" and not "Conners", he's merrily experimenting with a gas that could turn him into the Lizard, when, surprise surprise, he knocks over its container and promptly grows an arm, a tail and more scales than a tank-full of goldfish.

Still, it's an ill wind, and at least it gives him a chance to make another bid for taking over the world.

As part of that plan, he decides to use his control of swamp creatures to control the Man-Thing.

Sadly for him, Manny's not as easily controllable as he expected and the rapacious reptile and the muck monster end up fighting, as Spider-Man does battle with alligators and snakes, before it's all sorted out by a failed businessman who does the usual necessaries with Dr Connors' antidote.

The failed businessman, gone down to the swamp to kill himself, actually feels like the least Conway part of the tale and seems to be an attempt by him to import a bit of the feel of the Man-Thing's own comic, with someone blundering into the swamp in need of salvation and finding it through an encounter with the monster and other strange beings. The truth is the move doesn't really work because, for it to do so, the story would've needed to centre around him and and his problems and back-story but, this being a Spider-Man tale, he's too much on the sidelines for that to happen, and so his subplot feels like a bolted-on extra rather than a central plank of the tale.

Interesting that, unlike the other Giant-Size Spider-Mans, this tale ties in with the continuity of the monthly titles, with Peter Parker spending time with the newly resurrected Gwen Stacy. I assume the powers-that-be felt the return of Gwen Stacy from the dead was simply too big a story to be ignored.

And that's it. I've finished again. As far as I can make out, that's every annual and special published in the appropriate time-period reviewed. As far as I can make out, the only things left are the two 1960s Spectacular Spider-Mans. As I don't have a copy of either of them and they aren't in the Essential Spider-Mans and I refuse to read comics off a screen, it looks like I'm going to have to wait till I can get my hands on copies of them before I can offer my long-awaited (by me) opinions. Given my usual levels of poverty, this could take some time but at least it gives me something to look forward to.

Giant-Size Spider-Man #3. Doc Savage

(Cover from January 1975.)

"The Yesterday Connection!"

Written by Gerry Conway.

Drawn by Ross Andru.

Inked by Mike Esposito.

Lettered by Ray Holloway.

Colours by George Roussos.

If ever a story was going to have a tough time making me dislike it, it was going to be this one, for the simple reason that it features 1930s' adventurer Doc Savage. It's not that I love Doc Savage. It's that, the 1970s Ron Ely movie apart, I don't actually know anything about him. I don't even know if he's literally made of bronze. So, anything that allows me to see the legend in action's going to grab me.

From how he goes about things in this tale, with his secret lab, speeding automobile, gadgets and blatant wealth, he appears to have a distinct Bruce Wayne vibe to him. I'm not sure about his seeming army of assistants though. With all of those knocking around, his section of the tale seems somewhat overcrowded. And not a woman among them?

Fortunately, a woman soon appears to fill that particular gap in Doc's life, as a half-naked, light-blue space-babe called Desinna appears in order to enlist the aid of first him and then Spider-Man in dealing with a giant energy being called Tarros.

While Doc Savage more or less falls for the tale Desinna spins him, Spider-Man's made of more cynical stuff and does the exact opposite of what she wants. Enabling Tarros to take the treacherous Desinna back to her own world of Saku. It's a pleasing twist that, when we're expecting Spidey to have a fight with the monster and finish the battle Doc Savage started forty years earlier, instead he helps the thing. Of course, there's the point that Spidey might know Desinna's been economical with the truth but that doesn't actually mean Tarros is a good guy, and Spidey has no way of knowing just what fate the monster has in store for Desinna as he takes her away. Oh well, I suppose we just have to put it down to his spider-sense or something. Or maybe we just have to accept that super-heroes always get things right, despite all evidence to the contrary.

This is the issue where we learn that Spider-Man has a lot more learning than we even knew he had. Not content with being one of the world's great scientific minds, it turns out he can decipher Morse Code and has a knowledge of comparative languages that enables him to get the gist of what the alien Tarros is saying. Loiks, is there anything Peter Parker can't do?

Like Giant-Size Spider-Man #1 where our hero never actually got round to meeting the character he shared the cover with, in this issue Spider-Man never actually meets Doc Savage and his cohorts. Whereas in that earlier tale, the non-meeting was a weakness, here it's a good thing. The only way for such an encounter to happen would've been for time travel to be involved and, for me, Spider-Man and time travel never sit comfortably together. It's fine for the likes of the Fantastic Four or the Avengers but Spidey's world should always be that bit more humdrum than theirs.

Of course, even the chance to learn more about Doc Savage can't blind me to all flaws and there is one quibble. I'm not sure about the fact that, unlike Doc Savage, Spidey sorts out the situation because, unlike Savage, he lives in a time when men know that women aren't always trustworthy. Really? Has he never read any of those hard-boiled detective novels that were so big in Savage's time?

Or what about all those old pulp magazines - you know, the sort that Doc Savage used to appear in - where, whatever else she might be, the one thing the beautiful dame isn't always is trustworthy?

Giant-Size Super-Heroes #1. Man-Wolf and Morbius

(Cover from 1974.)

"Man-Wolf At Midnight!"

Written by Gerry Conway.

Drawn by Gil Kane.

Inked by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by John Costanza.

Colours by Linda Lessmann.

Morbius is back in town - and he's decided to take control of the Man-Wolf.

Why? I couldn't say. While the sight of a vampire and werewolf heading off together down the street's an appealing one, Morbius' plan is to get an ESU professor to give him a total blood transfusion and cure him of his vampirism. Why he needs the Man-Wolf for this, I don't know. Maybe he needs his lupine lackey to distract Spider-Man while he visits the prof but why does he expect Spider-Man to turn up? Spidey wouldn't even have reason to suspect he was in town, let alone that he was about to pay the professor a visit. By blundering around New York at street level, with the Man-Wolf in tow, all he's doing is guaranteeing he'll be spotted.

Then again, Morbius isn't the only one acting irrationally. Spider-Man clearly realises Morbius wants the professor to cure him. At this point, anyone with a functioning brain and sense of social responsibility would offer Morbius all the help he could in order to end the threat his vampiric state poses.

So, what does Spider-Man do?

Everything he can to wreck Morbius' plan! And then, when he succeeds, he seems to think he's achieved a victory, happily ignoring the fact he's preserved the existence of a menace and guaranteed that more innocent people will die.

It's not the first time our hero's acted like this. He did the same when confronted by the Molten Man's attempts to cure himself in Amazing Spider-Man #133. Interesting then that that encounter gets a name-check in this tale. Maybe we have to accept Spider-man really is as big a menace as J Jonah Jameson has always said he is.

The story's entertaining enough but it seems to me the main problem is that its "Giant-Size" tag's completely unearned. The story's too short. When it comes, the ending really is abrupt. It seems like we're about to get another ten-or-so pages of action, as Spidey tracks down and defeats Morbius - and the Man-Wolf, but, instead, from out of nowhere, we get an epilogue. The end of the tale came as such a surprise I genuinely had to check I hadn't turned two pages at once and missed something. Nothing's resolved and the tale seems to serve merely as a means of bringing back John Jameson's furry alter-ego. While I've no objection to his return, the fact he's shown as a mere patsy for Morbius, and no great threat to Spider-Man, does mean you're given no reason to feel excited that he's back.

Speaking of mysteries, I'm still baffled as to how Morbius worked out from a story in the Daily Bugle that the Man-Wolf is in fact John Jameson, and it does seem a remarkable feat for him to just happened to have found the only drunk in New York City who saw the climax of Spider-Man's first fight with the Man-Wolf. In the next panel, Morbius says that finding the gem that causes Jameson's condition was the only bit of luck he needed in the whole plan. Really? Some might say that finding the only person, in a city of some ten million people, who happened to have the information he needed took a fair bit of good fortune.

It's hard for me to comment on the artwork. It's by Gil Kane so I assume it's fine but I'm using a copy of Essential Spider-Man Volume 6 and the quality of reproduction's terrible. It genuinely looks like the it came out of a fax machine. I know the Essentials are supposed to be cheap and cheerful but you can't help feeling it wouldn't have killed Marvel to have got someone in to touch-up the inking so it at least looked publishable.

Giant-Size Spider-Man #4. The Punisher and Moses Magnum

(Cover from April 1975.)

"To Sow The Seeds Of Death's Day!"

Written by Gerry Conway.

Pencilled by Ross Andru.

Inks by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by Joe Rosen.

Colours by Stan G.

Will heroes never learn a good villain's not dead until you see him being buried, with a huge lead weight on top of his coffin just to make sure he can't pop up out of it? Probably not. And will the Punisher ever give it up and get a life?

If there's one thing you could guarantee at this point in Spider-Man's history it's that, if there's to be a series of Spider-Man Specials, the Punisher's bound to be in at least one of them. And, hey presto, here we are.

Normally this'd make my heart sink sink faster than a rock in a bathtub. Well, maybe I'm just getting resigned to it or maybe his appearance in this tale isn't as bad as usual but, this time round, I can actually live with his presence.

In truth, my increased tolerance is probably down to the fact that, for once, Castle doesn't try to kill Spider-Man. At last he seems to have learned his lesson and remembered from previous encounters that Spider-Man's a good guy. Needless to say, this doesn't stop him trying to shoot everyone else in sight.

This time they're up against Moses Magnum who might be named after an ice cream but there's nothing sweet about him. He's running a prison camp in Latin America, in which he uses American kidnap victims to test out his nerve gas. Happily, at the end of it all, he gets a taste of his own medicine, at which point the Punisher declares him to be 100% guaranteed dead-certain dead. Needless to say, Magnum later turns up in various other comics, even taking on the X-Men. I said those heroes never learn.

As for the tale itself, it's nothing special but it breezes along nicely and does give us an unmasking scene in which we get to see Peter Parker wearing a face only a mother could love and only a criminal mastermind could think was genuine. It being a Special, it operates in a little bubble all its own with nothing of Peter Parker's personal life and none of the usual supporting cast. As the soap elements were what made Spider-Man great, this is a loss but not as great a loss as you might expect. As with his Giant-Size Shang-Chi team-up, this DC-ization of our hero works fine for a one-off tale, although it would've quickly grown tiresome if tried in his monthly mag.

Ross Andru's art's standard for him, which means it's very good but not quite among his better issues. I always feel you can tell how much Andru was getting into a story by how wild the angles get and, here, they're relatively restrained. But I do feel sorry for him. The workload that seems to be have been put on him for an artist who was reputedly not the fastest and, according to Dick Giordano, was forced by an eye defect to draw half of every page twice, seems to have been heavy. They wanted him to do the monthly comics,they wanted him to do the Giant-Size Specials, they wanted him to do Superman vs Spider-Man. At times, the poor bloke must've felt his head was spinning faster than Spider-Man's webbing.

Amazing Spider-Man #149. The Jackal and the Spider-Clone

(Cover from October 1975.)

"Even if I live, I DIE!"

Words by Gerry Conway.
Pencils by Ross Andru.
Inks by Mike Esposito.
Lettering by Annette Kay.
Colours by Janice C.

And so, like Alice, we're flung into a land that makes no sense.

The Jackal certainly doesn't. He's on a revenge mission against Spider-Man and has him captive, at his mercy. So, what does he do now he has him where he wants him?

He does the obvious. He runs out on our hero, telling him to meet him tonight at Shea Stadium.

Spider-Man's not making any sense. Upon being faced with a clone of himself - and the knowledge that a bomb's about to detonate, killing Ned Leeds - both versions of Spider-Man choose to fight each other instead of saving Ned.

Why are they fighting? Why have they decided that giving each other a smack in the mouth is more important than saving the life of a friend? Who can know?

For that matter, why did Professor Miles Warren choose to clone Peter Parker as well as Gwen Stacy? At that time, he could have had no knowledge that Peter Parker was Spider-Man and so no plan to use the Spider-Man clone against the original. For that matter, he hadn't yet killed his lab assistant, nor even dreamed of adapting the Jackal guise. So, why the extra clone?

Peter Parker's not making any sense. He heads over to the Bugle, hoping to catch Mary Jane alone.

Why?

Why does he expect Mary Jane to be at the Bugle, a place with which she has only tenuous connections and has hardly ever visited? And why would he expect her to be alone in a busy newspaper office?

And now - again - the Jackal's not making any sense. Upon being forced to face up the fact that it was he (Professor Warren), not the Jackal, who killed Serba, Professor Warren frees Ned, causing his own death.

Except that, in his flashback sequence, our villain has already declared that he, Professor Warren, not the Jackal, killed Serba.

The one thing that does make sense is that, realising, at the original Gwen's graveside, that she's not the real thing, the Gwen clone leaves, to make a new life for herself. At last some sort of logic. Happily for us, it also makes for a poignant climax and leads to Peter and MJ becoming closer than ever.

One thing that does impress me is Professor Warren's ability to multi-task. We've seen, repeatedly, over the years that Peter Parker struggles nightmarishly to balance his duties as Spider-Man with his need to keep up his college studies. Professor Warren, on the other hand, manages to raise and nurture two clones, develop a hi-tech costume, train himself to the peak of physical condition, hold down a job as master criminal and still not let it affect his ability to perform his duties as a college lecturer. Clearly, the man's a genius at time-management and someone Peter Parker could take more than a few tips from.

So, senseless it may be but is this story any good? As always in the Conway era, any sort of scrutiny tears it to shreds of a million colours but, as always, it achieves its prime function of entertaining you, so can hardly be labelled a total disaster. It's just so ludicrous from start to finish that, like a brand new bag of marsh mallows, you might be able to enjoy it but not in any way respect it.

Amazing Spider-Man #148.The Jackal and the Tarantula

(Cover from September 1975.)

"Jackal, Jackal... Who's Got The Jackal?"

Words by Gerry Conway.
Art by Ross Andru.
Inks by Esposito and Hunt.
Lettering by John Costanza.
Colours by Petra Goldberg.


There are well over a hundred frames in a typical comic book but a single frame is all it takes to define an issue. Steve Ditko allegedly quit Spider-Man in protest at the Green Goblin being revealed to be Norman Osborn. God alone knows what he'd have done had the Jackal been revealed to be Professor Warren.

And yet that's exactly what happens here.

Happily, Ross Andru didn't quit in protest but you wouldn't have blamed him if he had. It has to be the stupidest revelation in the history of literature. A twist that must have been born of desperation. All these months there's been the mystery of who the Jackal was and what he was about, so Gerry Conway had to come up with something. And it seems like, in the end, this was the only thing he could think of. Not only is it ludicrous but it deprives us once and for all of Professor Warren who's been a good old reliable mainstay of the strip for years. The only worse person it could have turned out to have been was Joe Robertson.

That aside, what did I actually make of this tale? It's a good, solid story with some nice character stuff, that seems to fit more than usual into its twenty pages without feeling at any point, crammed in. There's even time for Peter Parker to take a nice relaxing bath.

There's also time for a good old fashioned punch-up, plus the revelation that Spider-Man's spider-sense only works when he's being snuck up on by people it already knows to be his enemies. How it already knows them to be his enemies is anyone's guess.

Highlights of the issue are Mary Jane going round to Peter's place to give him a piece of her mind, and Spidey's fight in the dark with the Tarantula. Exactly why Spidey's so eager to get the fight out into the daylight is another matter, seeing as how his spider-sense should give him a vital advantage in the gloom but the fight's pretty cool while it lasts, allowing Andru to make an appropriately Ditkoesque use of light and shade. Good to see the Spider-Signal getting a rare outing too. I suppose it had to come in handy for something at some point.

One final point is that I don't understand this issue's title at all. I have the feeling it's a reference to some sort of catchphrase but, if so, I don't have a clue whose catchphrase it might be.

Amazing Spider-Man #147.The Tarantula's back

(Cover from August 1975.)

"The Tarantula Is A Very Dangerous Beast!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Esposito and Hunt.

Lettering by Sam Rosen.

Colours by Stan G.

Latest in the long line of stupid things for the New York prison authorities to do is stand by like lemons while the Tarantula makes a pair of steel-spiked shoes in the prison workshop. He tells us he's been working on these things for months.

What?

And at no point has it occurred to the guards that allowing a man, notorious for stabbing people with his footwear, to make pointy steel shoes might be a bad thing? They even do nothing while he's stood there, speaking aloud, in front of them, about his plans. Needless to say he promptly uses them to escape - followed no doubt by a dozen other super-villains who've presumably also been using the prison workshop to rebuild their criminal careers.

That aside, this is a story of distinctly surreal tastes, with Spider-Man and the Tarantula fighting each other on a bus as the driver completely ignores their presence before tearing off his head to reveal himself to be the Jackal - not to mention the presence on the vehicle of Gwen Stacy.

Except it's not Gwen Stacy. It's a clone and, for all our hero knows, there could be a whole army of them out there.

Actually, that would've been a pretty good storyline but it was not to be. For now, there's only one clone in sight; one who seems to be under the Jackal's complete control, judging by the way she just stands there, a strangely lunatic blankness on her face, as the villain flings our hero off the Brooklyn Bridge in echo of the original Gwen's demise. All put together, it feels more like a dream our hero would have than any kind of objective reality. And it's all the better for that. I love this story. It's one of my favourites from the Ross Andru/Gerry Conway era precisely because of its madness.

On less dramatic but just as crucial matters, it's nice to see Mary Jane and Aunt May having a heart-to-heart, with the older woman giving MJ some sound advice. Interesting that, despite believing the Gwen clone to be the original article, Aunt May would appear to be fully on Mary Jane's side in the battle for Peter Parker's heart.

Amazing Spider-Man #146. The Scorpion

(Cover from July 1975.)

"Scorpion... ...Where Is Thy Sting?"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Art by Ross Andru, John Romita and the Gang.

Lettering by Joe Rosen.

Colours by Don Warfield.

Looks like chief Wiggum's in charge again.

If stupidity's a disease, the Spideyverse has the plague. First up, we get the Scorpion. Having been told that, if he crashes into Aunt May's hospital room, he'll find Spider-Man there, he instead finds Peter Parker. Enraged that Spider-Man isn't present, he goes on a rampage around the curiously empty building. For some reason, it never seems to occur to him that Spider-Man might not spend twenty four hours a day welded into his spider-suit and might, gasp, be in his civvies.

For some reason, he also seems not to recognise Peter Parker - even though, when we first met Gargan, all those years back, he was tailing Peter for J Jonah Jameson who wanted to know how he was always where Spider-Man was. Hmn, let's see; Peter Parker, always seems to be where Spider-Man is and you've been told Spider-Man will be in that room. Why on Earth would you draw any link between those twin facts?

Second up, matching Scorpy in the brainless stakes, are the New York City Police Department. Get this; the Scorpion's robbed a bank. They're looking for him. Where have they not thought to look?

That's right.

His official address. The place where it transpires he's got the money stashed, in money bags, in his closet. It's hard to know who's the stupider here, the police or Gargan. Oh well, at least now Spider-Man's tipped them off, they might actually have a chance of be finding the loot - if they can only get their act together enough to buy a map to get them there.

How did the Jackal know the Scorpion was going to be outside Santonio's house? We're never told.

How did Santonio know that, at the very moment he switched his TV on, Spider-Man was going to be on it? We're never told.

Where's Gwen Stacy staying? We're never told.

Oh. No. Hold on. We are. She's staying at Betty Brant's. At last we've been told something.

We've also been told something else.

The Jackal knows Spider-Man's true identity.

And he's on a revenge schtick for Spidey's seeming involvement in murder.

I've come to the conclusion from this tale that normal rules of story-telling don't apply to comic books. This story's dumb. This story recycles bits of the recent Molten Man storyline. This story's full of plot holes and things happening for the sake of them happening. It's full of people doing implausible things and knowing unknowable facts. And yet, despite all this, there's something about it that grabs me. The only letdown is the comedy ending of the Scorpion being forced to apologise to Aunt May. I'm starting to think there's no hope for me.

There is, however, more than hope for Ross Andru who does another sterling job (with a noticeable assist from jazzy John Romita.) Highlight on the art front has to be the Scorpion climbing the side of the Chrysler building as Spidey watches from a distance. Why's he climbing the Chrysler building? Aw, who cares? Like I said, it's a comic. The normal rules of story-telling don't matter. All that matters is that's is how to use a vertical panel.

Amazing Spider-Man #145. Scorpion

(Cover from June 1975.)

"Gwen Stacy Is Alive ...And, Well?"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Giacoia and Hunt.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by P Goldberg.

Bad decisions. We make them. We hate them. But, without them, would we ever have such a thing as drama?

Gwen Stacy's back and as cloying, clinging, wimpy and needy as ever. Still, I suppose if you don't have a clue what's going on and why your boyfriend's threatening to kill you for "pretending" to be yourself, you would be feeling somewhat vulnerable. So, maybe for once, we should cut the girl some slack in the wimp department.

And perhaps we should also cut Peter Parker some slack because, pretty much the first thing that strikes you this month is the affirmation of his tendency to do the exact opposite of what he should be doing. He wants to know why a dead girl's suddenly appeared at his apartment, so he abandons her, turns into Spider-Man and goes swinging off round town; when you would've thought the obvious thing to do would be to question this "imposter" and find out where she's from and who sent her. Oh well, like Gwendolyn, I suppose you can argue he's somewhat disoriented and can't be expected to act logically.

But yet again Gerry Conway's in the mood for comebacks because, not only does an ex-girlfriend reappear but so does an ex-foe.

The Scorpion.

Now, if Peter Parker's just made a bad decision, here's where the whole concept of "Bad Decision" goes into over-drive. When Mac Gargan checks out of jail, we see him being given a package and a suitcase. When he gets, "home," he opens the case to reveal it contains his Scorpion outfit.

That's right, upon releasing him, the authorities actually give a dangerous super-villain a costume whose only possible use is the committing of crimes! I've spoken before about the incompetence of prison officials in New York but this is ridiculous. Things are so bad that I'm starting to wonder if The Simpsons' Chief Wiggum's in charge of the place.

That aside, the Scorpion's always been one of my favourite villains, mostly because he nearly killed Spider-Man in their first meeting. It might not be much of a character recommendation but it's the sort of thing you want from a good villain. Frankly, his 2nd appearance, in Amazing Spider-Man #29, was a bit of an anti-climax but here he's back to giving Spidey a good bashing.

Conway gives our hero the excuse that he's tired from fighting Meteor Man in Marvel-Team-up #33, a tale that, somewhat clumsily, is supposed to have happened during a lull in the events of this issue. Such are the continuity nightmares of giving your hero more than one mag to fight in each month but I like to think Scorpy would've thrashed him anyway. The only disappointment with his return is that, in Andru's hands, he lacks the sheer sense of evil madness he had on his first appearance. But still, beggars can't be choosers.

The Scorpion's lack of madness aside, to me, Ross Andru's art in this issue's sensational. Probably the best he's produced yet. His layouts now have a total freedom, so the story practically leaps out of the pages at you and Spider-Man's protracted fight scene with the villain is so full of movement, you start to feel like you're watching the thing in real time. You actually have to make a conscious effort to remind yourself that you're still looking at stationary images and that nothing is actually moving.

Amazing Spider-Man #144. Gwen Stacy returns from the dead

(Cover from May 1975.)

"The Delusion Conspiracy"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Giacoia and Hunt.

Lettering by Ray Holloway.

Colours by George Roussos.

Drama without climax has no purpose, and life without love has no meaning. If so, this tale must be proud and high of head because it has not just one climax, it has two. One's as big an anti-climax as it is anti-cyclone. The other's like being punched in the face by Mike Tyson.

But time for that later. First there's a villain to be dealt with because, after last issue, the Cyclone has both J Jonah Jameson and Joe Robertson captive. Of course, he could've had Spider-Man captive too but, for no noticeable reason, chose to spin off out of there when he had the American defeated. What kind of fool is he? Doesn't he know from war films - and super-hero comics - that an American's never beaten?

Clearly not because now Peter Parker has a chance to go into action.

And, what action it is.

He drops in on the local hardware store.

I like this. I like the lulls in the tales. They're what make it interesting for me.

In school they taught me the French drive on the left, that they say maintenant when they mean "now" and that they eat nothing but croissants. One thing they never taught me is how great French hardware stores are. I've been in my local hardware shop many times and not once have they had such a thing as a gigantic fan on sale.

Come to think of it, for what purpose would such a fan be used? The only one I can think of is, "wind tunnel." So, for anyone who has a wind tunnel in their home, this store would be the store from heaven. Regardless, whatever its original intended purpose, it doesn't matter because a giant fan is all Spider-Man needs to stop the Cyclone.

That's right, France's greatest super-villain of them all's stopped by a giant fan and, having read this tale at least four times now in my life, I still don't have a clue why. As for Spider-Man using a tape recorder to fool JJ and Robbie into thinking both he and Peter Parker are present at the same time....

While it's nicely drawn, you don't get the feeling Messrs Conway and Andru were exactly pulling out all the stops when they produced this tale. In fact, if not for what happens right at its end, it'd have every feeling of being some sort of filler.

And that's where love comes in, and that's where the second climax comes in, one that flips the tale's worth on its head and sends it from filler to landmark as Peter returns home to find he has a surprise visitor.

Gwen Stacy.

We shouldn't be shocked. Bearing in mind that people come back from the dead all the time in comics, we shouldn't shocked.

And yet we are. Why? Because the death of Gwen Stacy wasn't just any comic book death. It was the first of its kind, its aftermath so potent we must have felt certain this was one corpse that wouldn't be walking.

But it is.

And there'll be more of it next issue.

Amazing Spider-Man #143. The Cyclone

(Cover from April 1975.)

"And the Wind Cries: Cyclone!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Giacoia and Hunt.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by Jan Cohen.

"You Americans," declares our villain. "You can never keep from interfering in matters which do not concern you."

Joe Robertson, there's a man. There's a man with a son who seems to have disappeared without trace but who doesn't seem to have noticed.

Then again, perhaps he has his mind on other things. After all, if there's any doubt left that he must know Peter Parker's secret identity, it has to be gone after this issue. Why else would he ask Aunt May's favourite nephew to accompany him to France and help the kidnapped J Jonah Jameson? He's practically telling Pete to his face, "I know you're Spider-Man. That's why I need you there."

Does our hero pick up on this?

No.

Does our hero go to France?

Yes.

And, wouldn't you know it? By an incredible coincidence, the trail he has to take to follow Robbie to the kidnappers just so happens to take him past all the most famous landmarks in Paris; just like his trip to London took him to Big Ben, and his trip to Montreal took him to the Expo 67 complex. Although, in this case, one of the sites of Paris seems to be the Parc des Princes, which must have been brand new in 1975, so at least there's one bit of originality in there.

As for the villain of the piece, we can tell the Cyclone's French because he looks down his nose at Americans. So, no stereotyping there then. Oh well, at least Gerry Conway resists the temptation to have him yell out, "Zut Alors!" in times of stress. So comics must be getting more sophisticated.

Speaking of getting, "sophisticated," Pete and Mary Jane are getting a bit, "sophisticated," themselves as, on the domestic front, they get to share their first ever kiss. Is it really their first? I assumed they'd been all over each other like rabbits for months.

It just goes to show, in this strange and mysterious world of ours, you can never know people as well as you think you do. Well, unless you're Joe Robertson. In which case, you clearly know Peter Parker inside out.

Amazing Spider-Man #142. The Mysterio imposter

(Cover from March 1975.)

"Dead Man's Bluff!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Giacoia and Hunt.

Lettering by Joe Rosen.

Colours by L Lessmann.

A wise man once said, One, two, three, simple as ABC - or words to that effect. Gerry Conway would no doubt have agreed, judging by the fact that, when it came to villains, he seemed to have three main missions.

One; bring them back. I've already discussed this previously, with the likes of Molten Man, Doc Ock, Kangaroo, et al returning.

Two; kill them. Over the previous couple of years, he'd polished off the Green Goblin, the Kangaroo, the Molten Man, Hammerhead, Dr Octopus and probably a whole bunch more that have completely slipped my mind right now.

And, three; replace them. Already, before this issue, he'd given us a new Green Goblin and a new Vulture. Now we have a new Mysterio. Why he did this is anyone's guess, bearing in mind that his stand-ins were never a patch on the originals and clearly were never meant to be.

But ersatz villainy aside, the tale's biggest weakness is that we see J Jonah Jameson on the phone to the fake Mysterio, talking about how he's got Spider-Man so confused he thinks he's fighting a ghost. This does somewhat destroy the impact of the climax's big reveal that Mysterio's not a ghost.

On top of that, it has to be said, the, "JJ hires a villain to defeat Spider-Man," plotline has been done to death over the years and was in no way needed here. We already have a motive for the new Mysterio to attack Spider-Man - however flimsy. We didn't need another one piled on top of it.

For that matter, how Mysterio's device projects an image of the Jackal at Spidey when the villain can't possibly have heard of the green garbed one, let alone possess images (moving or otherwise) of him, is anybody's guess.

Nice to see more Peter and Mary Jane scenes. I know you're supposed to read super hero books for the action and the derring-do but I derring don't. I have to confess my main reason for reading these tales is the glimpse into Peter Parker's private life. Maybe I'm reading the wrong comics. Maybe I should be reading romance mags instead.

I'm not sure how the new Mysterio's mask would make his head invisible, bearing in mind it only covers the front part of his head. Also, the contraption for supporting the Mysterio dummy, down at the docks, should've been easy for Spider-Man to spot, even with a bit of mist blowing around.

But, in the end, what does any of this matter? Because it all pales into insignificance besides one single panel. Who was that figure we spotted, walking away from Peter Parker as he left the Bugle?

One thing's for sure. Whatever it might seem, it can't be Gwen,.

Can it...?

Amazing Spider-Man #141. Mysterio

(Cover from February 1975.)

"The Man's Name Appears to be... Mysterio!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Giacoia and Hunt.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by Petra G.

You'd have thought that, by now, Peter Parker would've realised that, when it comes to villains, death's a mere inconvenience.

But then, for Peter Parker, cars are an inconvenience.

That's right, true believer, the Spider-Mobile's back and as unworkable as ever.

Granted it isn't back for long and, while it's here, its limitations become all too apparent as it effectively paints a huge target on Spider-Man for the police to chase. But, as I've said before, I've always had a soft spot for the thing. I think it's just the look of it. Somehow it looks like a car Spider-Man should be driving. None of that sleekness or hi-tech for him, just an awkward, ungainly, useless buggy. Exactly where he's been keeping it the last few months is anyone's guess but pretty soon he's keeping it at the bottom of the river where he, no doubt, would feel it belongs.

But now it all gets worse because it's not just his car he's having problems with, it's his marbles.

And that's the thing. How many times has he come up against Mysterio and how many times has the menacing master of illusion had a plot to make him think he's gone mad? And still, after all these times, he falls for it again, thinking he must have lost his mind just because he's told the villain died in jail a year ago. Hey, Petey, the Vulture died in jail years back and that never stopped him from coming back. Come to think of it, Doc Ock's died on more occasions than he's tried to marry Aunt May and he always come back.

On the art front, highlight of the issue has to be the truck driving along the wall, to almost run our hero over.

Highlight after that has to be MJ out of hospital and, in some nicely rendered scenes, getting to reacquaint herself with our hero, not to mention finally drawing the Charlie Brown analogy the strip's been crying out for for years. You can't get away from it, under all that show, and on top of those heels, Miss Watson's a bright girl.

Amazing Spider-Man #140. The Jackal and the Grizzly

(Cover from January 1975.)

"...And One Will Fall!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Giacoia and Hunt.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by P Goldberg.

For a so-called science nerd, Peter Parker moves in surprisingly glamorous circles. First he has a girlfriend who's an actress, now we get to meet his new neighbour Gloria Grant who's a model. Bearing in mind that he used to live in a rent-free apartment with the son of one of the city's wealthiest businessmen, and nearly became the nephew of one of America's deadliest criminals, it seems like he can't get within a million miles of the mundaneity the rest of us achieve without even trying.

But, before you get the notion that it's all glam and glitter being a super-hero, don't forget that, sometimes, mad fiends put tracking devices on you that'll destroy your arm if you try to remove them.

It has to be said, the first segment of this tale, dealing with the Jackal's device, doesn't have any real reason for being there. It makes no difference at all to the outcome of the plot, and what should have been an issue-long development is almost instantly despatched to become little more than padding. A shame because it was a great idea with a bucketload of potential.

Beyond that, the Jackal's motives don't really add up. If he wants to use Peter Parker to lead him to Spider-Man, then why tip him off about the plan, guaranteeing that Petey will avoid Spidey like the plague?

There's also the obvious question of Pete's other identity. It's no secret (to us anyway) that he wears his costume under his normal clothes - especially when he's expecting action - which poses the question of how the Jackal and the Grizzly didn't find the sleeve of Pete's spider-suit under his clothing when they fitted him with the device.

It's also a shame the flashback reveals that JJ got Max Markham banned purely for selfish reasons. Every so often, over the years, we've been allowed to glimpse a nobler, more principled, side to the Bugle publisher and it would've been nice if this had been the case here.

Spider-Man reasons that the Grizzly must be wearing an exo-skeleton because he was once just a wrestler and therefore can't have any superpowers of his own. I'm not sure I follow that logic. After all, the vast majority of super-villains used to just be ordinary people. It doesn't mean they don't have genuine powers now. Still, its a nicely rendered conclusion to the tale and Ross Andru handles the action scenes superbly, especially the Grizzly's attack on his former gym colleagues.

At the end of the day, it's easy to pick holes in such stories but I've said it before and I feel it's worth reiterating, despite its lapses in logic and, often, continuity, this era of Spider-Man's easily my favourite. There's a wit and a sophistication to it that enables it to somehow rise above its flaws and become oddly compelling. Never before had Peter Parker and his cast felt so like living, breathing three-dimensional characters that you might actually bump into if you paid a visit to New York.

Amazing that this tale is only the Jackal's third appearance in the pages of Spider-Man and yet he already feels like a long-term villain.

Amazing Spider-Man #139. The Grizzly

(Cover from December 1974.)

"Day of the Grizzly!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Giacoia and Hunt.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by Jan Brunner.

A low-budget TV show tells me, every Saturday, that animals do the funniest things. It's a shame no one's ever told the people at Marvel, where animals just seem to want to kill Spider-Man. Over the years we've had the Rhino, Dr Octopus, the Beetle, the Kangaroo, the Lizard, the Vulture, the Chameleon and pretty much everyone but the Hamster. And now, we get the latest addition to our menacing menagerie. We get the Grizzly.

But everything in its order. Before a man can fight, he must first find a home. After one issue living with Flash, Peter Parker lands himself yet another apartment. How he finds it's something of a mystery. Early on, we're told Liz Allen's found it for him but, when he catches up with her, she's just in the act of buying the newspaper which contains the ad.

That aside, it's an oddly straightforward tale whose lack of twists and turns makes it feel nothing like its twenty pages in length. Such simplicity might leave some feeling they're not getting their money's worth. But, you know what? I like it for that. There must be something about me. I like the previous issue for being straightforward in its plotting and I like this one too. I sometimes get the feeling that, if there were a story where all Peter Parker did was walk from one end of the room to the other, it'd be my favourite tale of all time.

But, of course, this is The Amazing Spider-Man and so something happens. The Grizzly happens.

In truth, he's not that new. He's basically the Rhino in everything but name. And, if the Rhino comes to mind for us, we're clearly not alone as Spidey complains that a blow that's had no effect on him would have dropped the aforementioned rogue. It poses the obvious question of why Gerry Conway didn't just bring back the Rhino but the answer becomes clear later in the tale when we find out he's a mere lackey for another villain - and the Rhino was always too obdurate to settle for being anyone's lackey.

On the pictures front, there's two stand-out moments for me. There's a nice panel where J Jonah Jameson opens the office door to see the Grizzly looming over him and promptly slams it shut again. It's the sort of character based tongue-in-cheek scene that Andru was so good at. There's also a lovely panel where Spidey, in pursuit of his ursine foe, swings past the Chrysler Building.

In truth, my one complaint about this issue would be that, towards its conclusion, Peter Parker gets knocked out way too easily. I mean, despite knowing it's a trap, he just stands there while the Jackal - who must be in full view to do it - hits him in the stomach. Oh, Peter, will you never learn? Clearly not. Not as long as the plot demands that he doesn't.

Amazing Spider-Man #138. The Mindworm

(Cover from November 1974.)

"Madness Means... The Mindworm!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencis by Ross Andru.

Inks by Giacoia and Hunt.

Lettering by Annette Kawecki.

Colours by Petra Goldberg.

Landscapes. They're not just rectangular things that come in wooden frames. They're also a state of mind. And, in this tale, we find a whole new landscape for our hero, as Spider-Man moves to a new part of New York - and, while he's at it, enters a whole new realm of story-telling.

It's impossible to think of any Spider-Man tale in this run that's so far removed from the norm. In terms of mood, plot and the nature of its villain, maybe it's just me but, apart from the lack of over-verbosity, this could be a Don McGregor tale. You could stick the Mindworm in a Killraven story and his basic nature wouldn't look out of place. It leads to one of the strangest Spider-Man stories ever told, an oddly low-key missive with the Mindworm trying to drain the emotions/souls from a now zombie-esque community. In fact, so odd is it that, if the issue had climaxed with Spidey waking to discover it was all a dream, you wouldn't have been surprised. Because of this oddness and eerieness, I do have to see it as one of the most compelling stories of its era.

On other matters, nice to see Flash Thompson and Peter Parker not only getting on with each other these days but actually sharing an apartment. It just goes to show how the characters have developed over the years that this seems a perfectly natural development rather than forced.

It does raise one question, however.

Is Flash's new mellowness part of that natural progression? Or have months of having his emotions drained by the Mindworm led to it? Needless to say we're given no answers, possibly because it was a matter that hadn't occurred to Gerry Conway. It would've been nice if it had. The idea that Flash and the other residents had somehow been left as better people through the Mindworm's feeding would have had an appealing irony to it.

Amazing Spider-Man #137. Harry Osborn's Green Goblin

(Cover from October 1974.)

"The Green Goblin Strikes!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Giacoia and Hunt

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by P Goldberg.

Elementary, my dear Miss Watson? Not when you're the Amazing Spider-Man. We're told, at the tale's start, that Spidey's been out searching for Harry for two nights in a row and come up with nothing. Then, later in the issue, our hero finally thinks of where to search for him.

His house.

Somehow I don't think Sherlock Holmes needs to fear the competition just yet. Happily Harry's secret hideout is indeed his house and, there, the ensuing mayhem breaks out.

I'm still not sure how Spidey works out that it's Aunt May who's the target of Harry's bomb. He says it's because Harry referred to his planned victim as Pete's, "Most dear." But how was Harry to know our hero regarded May, and not MJ, as his most dear? Plus, given that Petey stole his girlfriend (MJ) from him - and his father's involvement in the death of Pete's previous squeeze - I'd've thought Mary Jane was a nailed-on cert for assassination.

But, whatever the ins and outs of it all, the real strength of this issue is Ross Andru. His use of "camera" angles and character poses is remarkable, especially when Spider-Man and the Goblin fight each other. Their moves are practically a demented form of ballet. And I love the splash page of Gobby closing in on the truck. Like Gil Kane before him, freed from the constraints of gravity that affect real people, Andru seemed to be revelling in the freedom the characters gave him.

Speaking of lacking gravity, MJ's so much cooler in this issue than Gwen ever was. If it'd been Gwen in the hospital bed, she'd have spent all her time simpering and whining and demanding to know just where Pete had disappeared to while she was laid up, then have started drivelling on about how she wished she could believe everyone else was wrong to think him a coward. Come to think of it, if I'd been his girlfriend, I'd have been simpering and whining and demanding to know where he'd been.

But not our MJ. She's made of stronger stuff. Despite having been blown up in the previous issue, we find her full of humour - even when Pete runs out on her. And what's best is she's clearly got a chemistry with Aunt May that Gwen completely lacked.

Good to see Harry reveal Peter Parker's secret identity to the world and have no one believe him; although the reason no one believes him - he's too young to be a villain who's been around for so long - makes no real sense bearing in mind that, in Marvel continuity, Spidey and the Goblin can't have been around for more than two or three years.

Amazing Spider-Man #136. The Green Goblin Mark 2

(Cover from September 1974.)

"The Green Goblin Lives Again!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Giacoia and Hunt.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by L Lessmann.

Cakes. You can have them and eat them. This issue proves that, in every way possible. How do you bring back the Green Goblin while not devaluing his death?

Easy. Have someone else adopt the guise.

But that isn't as simple as it might sound. We all, I'm sure, remember Blackie Drago, the second Vulture who was never a patch on the original?

Then again, maybe we don't. He wasn't around for long before the creators saw the error of their ways and brought back the inimitable Mr Toomes. And, as for the third Vulture. Can anyone, off the top of their head, even remember what he was called?

So, the Goblin. How do you replace Spider-Man's greatest ever foe with one who isn't going to feel similarly ersatz?

Easy. You replace him with Harry Osborn. Of course, you have to send him mad first - for no normal man can be the Goblin - and Messrs Conway and Andru have more than done that. The Harry we're confronted with is a raving lunatic. Logically, Harry can't work as the Goblin. He's not had the years of practice and experience the original had and he doesn't have the super-strength his father seemed to possess. The original had been showered in experimental chemicals that, presumably, enabled him to slug it out, toe to toe, with Spidey. How Harry can take a punch from Spidey without his head being knocked off is anyone's guess. But somehow, it doesn't seem to matter. The sheer vengeful madness of Harry Osborn somehow makes you willing to turn a blind eye to such blatant logic holes.

On the art front, the thing that leaps out at me this issue is Ross Andru's ability to capture the mood of his characters. Even when Spidey's in his mask, you're never left in any doubt what he's feeling.

Oddity of the tale has to be its ending. I'm not quite sure what it has to do with anything. It comes across like the story lacked a neat resolution and so Andru had to add an extra scene to make it feel like the issue had wrapped up properly.

Amazing Spider-Man #135. The Punisher and the Tarantula

(Cover from August 1974.)

"Shoot-Out In Central Park!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Frank Giacoia.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by L Lessmann.

There aren't many Spider-Man stories I despise.

This is one of them.

Don't get me wrong. It's perfectly well written and Ross Andru's art is as good as - if not better than - ever. The problem's down to one man.

The Punisher.

Having brought him back at the climax of last issue, the tale adopts a pattern that would become familiar, with the Punisher showing up, thinking Spider-Man's a criminal, trying to kill him and then, having seen the error of his ways, teaming up with him.

And therein lies the problem. While it's easy to believe the Punisher would be willing to team up with Spidey, it's hard to see why Spidey would want to do likewise with the Punisher. Leaving aside the fact that the gun-toting nut-job keeps trying to kill him, the man's a psycho. Take the scene where he and our hero crash the Tarantula's lair. The Punisher instantly opens fire with a machine gun.

That's right, he tries to cut the villain down in a hail of bullets.

Now, the Tarantula might be a nasty piece of work but since when is Spidey going to be happy working with a man whose first instinct is to kill? Unfortunately, there's a moral bankruptcy to the tale. You can argue about whether it's right or not to kill those who are happy to kill others. What can never be claimed is that Spider-Man's happy to see men die. He isn't. No matter who he's come up against, he's never once tried to kill. He even refused to kill the Goblin, a foe he had every reason to want to send to the cemetery. Now, we're supposed to believe he's happy to team up with a man whose whole philosophy must logically be repugnant to him. It's a tale that really needs a proper investigation of the rights and wrongs of the Punisher's mentality, not a cheery acceptance of his ways.

On other matters, Peter Parker tries to disguise his true identity by claiming his disappearance during all the action was down to him having fallen overboard. Leaving aside the fact that, during such a long gap, the boat would've left him far behind, as Spider-Man was last seen jumping into the same water, it's hard to see how he thinks this is going to fool anyone. While it fools MJ, it doesn't con Flash. Big surprise. Turning up in the same place that Spidey was last seen is practically screaming out at everyone, "Hey, look at me! I'm Spider-Man!"

Not that the other passengers are bright enough to work that out. They have to be the most uniformly stupid bunch of people assembled in one place. Having seen our hero fighting the Tarantula and knocking him out - not to mention rescuing a crewman who fell into the water - they then decide Spidey was in league with the villain and try to lynch him. Some people simply don't deserve saving.

Still, there's one good thing comes out of this issue. Its climax; as Harry Osborn finally makes the move into becoming the Green Goblin.