Spectacular Spider-Man #2. The Goblin Lives

(Cover from November 1968.)

"The Goblin Lives!"

Written by Stan Lee.
Drawn by John Romita/Jim Mooney.
Inked by Frank Giacoia.
Lettering by Sam Rosen.

OK, so the big news I’ve been trumpeting about the site isn’t that big at all but it does mean the one glaring omission from its pages is finally filled as I’ve managed to get my hands on the one comic I hadn’t reviewed but always knew I needed to.

Long before the launch of 1976’s Spectacular Spider-Man, there was another comic of that title. Launched in 1968, it was one of Stan Lee’s early forays into larger format comics aimed at a slightly older (and wealthier) age group.

As it only lasted two issues, we have to conclude the world wasn’t yet ready for larger format comics aimed at a slightly older and wealthier age group. Still, no good deed is wasted. The story from issue #1 was recycled to create Amazing Spider-Man #116-118, and the second at least gave us the return of Spider-Man’s deadliest foe.

Spectacular Spider-Man #2 gives us a mammoth fifty-eight page epic as the Green Goblin makes his first comeback since his memory loss.

Attending a George Stacy slide show about the Green Goblin, Norman Osborn starts to get distinctly uncomfortable.

Then he gets sweaty.

Then he gets unconscious.

Next thing you know, his memories stirred, he’s back in full-on psycho mode and out to get his revenge on everyone’s favourite web-slinger.

For me, the tale has three highlights. The first being the scene where Norman Osborn’s tormented by his own half-memories, in hospital, before suddenly realising he’s the Goblin. You can practically hear thunder and lightning crashing around you as he suddenly sits bolt upright in bed, the Goblin's image looming maniacally behind him.

Second highlight’s the dinner party Osborn then throws, at which he taunts and teases Peter Parker in front of his closest friends. I seem to remember the scene being recycled in the original Spider-Man movie but this does it better, as Osborn seethes, scowls and leers his way through it. His insanity virtually a physical force thrusting itself out of the pages at you.

The third highlight’s the one that lets us know the strip’s well and truly arrived in the late 1960s, by having the Goblin use a psychedelic pumpkin on our hero. This sequence is terrific as Spider-Man’s tormented by visions of the Goblin, monsters, his own friends and finally gigantic versions of his main enemies. The double-page spread Romita and Mooney gives us here’s a wonder to behold and reminds us of Romita's mastery of the art of visual story-telling.

But what can be a threat can be a salvation as it gives Spider-Man a solution to the problem of how to get rid of the Goblin without killing Norman Osborn.

Turning the tables, Spidey uses a psychedelic pumpkin on its creator, reasoning that inflicting such a device on a mind with an already weakened grip on the cliff-face of sanity will send it plummeting and force Osborn to return to normal. It’s strong stuff, both visually and spiritually. Had any super-hero ever before set out to defeat a foe by snapping his mind?

This story’s fab. Unlike the Richard Raleigh tale, which was pretty routine, it’s like a pure distillation of all that made Spider-Man tales of this era great, with Peter Parker’s personal and heroic lives so hopelessly entangled on every level. I don’t know if it’s the best Spider-Man tale of its era but it’s certainly one of them and, perhaps as much as any other tale, it captures the very essence of what Spider-Man was about in those days. It’s also something of a tour de force by Romita and Mooney who, given the larger format, really do seem to have been inspired to give their all.

Great Thought Balloons Of Our Time: "How can I subject this gorgeous creature to the Green Goblin?" (Peter Parker, of Gwen Stacy.)

Amazing Spider-Man Annual/King-Size Special #3. The Avengers and the Hulk

(Cover from November 1966.)

"...To Become An Avenger!"

Written by Stan Lee.

Layouts by John Romita.

Pencils by Don Heck.

Inks by Mickey Demeo.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Bearing in mind The Avengers was originally conceived as Marvel's answer to The Justice League of America - a home for Marvel's mightiest solo stars - the lack of Spider-Man must've always seemed anomalous. But wise were the ways of Stan Lee and, in Amazing Spider-Man King Size Special #3, we find out just why.

The truth is Spidey's too big a jerk ever to be in a team. The old Peter Parker magic, the ability to always do and say the wrong thing in any circumstance, soon kicks in and, almost as soon as he's entered the Avengers' Mansion, he's having a barney with them. This ability to fall out with other do-righters is of course normal for a Marvel hero but, somehow, Peter Parker's always been better at it than anyone else. The qualities that made him unpopular in high school threaten, here, to sour his relations with the Avengers before they've even begun.

Happily, the Avengers have more patience than Flash Thompson ever did and set him a challenge. If he wants to join their little gang, he has to bring them the Hulk. Trouble is that having, at least temporarily, defeated the behemoth, he doesn't have the heart to hand the brute over. And so, as yet another tale ends, Spider-Man is once more alone in the world.

It's a pleasing tale, the personalities of the Avengers are clearly delineated and it's surprising to see the normally hot-headed Hawkeye being an avid Spider-Fan. The Wasp, needless to say, being an irrational female, is opposed on principle to having a spider in the house. Artist Don Heck's in one of his more readable moods and, with John Romita producing the layouts and Mickey Demeo/Esposito doing the inking, the thing looks fine. In fact it looks more than fine. Apart from the Hulk looking slightly off, it looks just like you'd want a meeting between Spidey and the old-style Avengers to look.

Interesting that our hero's able to deck the Hulk with just one blow, thanks to a rule Stan the Man suddenly pulls from thin air, that, in the first few minutes after the transformation from Bruce Banner, the Hulk's not at full strength. Was this idea ever mentioned before? Was it ever mentioned again? Not that I can recall.

Amazing Spider-Man #41. The Rhino

(Cover from October 1966.)

"The Horns Of The Rhino!"

Written by Stan Lee.
Drawn by John Romita.
Inked by Mickey Demeo.
Lettered by Artie Simek.

Anyone worried the end of Steve Ditko might see the end of Spider-Man introducing us to cool new villains had nothing to fear as, only two stories into his tenure, John Romita brings us the first classic villain of his era. The Rhino's on the rampage and he's after John Jameson.

But why is he after J Jonah Jameson's astronaut son?

Because, the last time he was in orbit, that astronaut was exposed to space spores. Why this means anyone would want to kidnap him I'm not altogether sure but, apparently, being exposed to space spores makes you unbelievably valuable to enemy nations who'll stop at nothing to get their hands on you. And, just to prove it, one of those nations has hired the Rhino to do just that.

Exactly which enemy nation the Rhino's working for isn't clear. When he first appears, the implication is he's entering USA from Mexico. Does this mean he's working for the Mexican government or has he entered Mexico from somewhere else?

We're not told.

In fact, we're told nothing about the Rhino. We don't know who he is, how he got his power, how he goes to the toilet in that get-up, or even whether his power is his own or down to his costume. Rarely has there been a super-villain so badly explained but somehow it doesn't seem to matter. He looks great and you get the feeling that, given half a chance, he could do our hero some serious harm.

If Romita's first couple of issues on the strip seemed designed to reassure readers that nothing much had changed since Steve Ditko's departure, this issue hits us full in the face with change at every possible opportunity. On the domestic front, Betty Brant's back in town but this is an issue for bringing past eras to an end and starting new ones and so, Lee and Romita bring the curtain down on that chapter of Peter Parker's life by having the reunited Peter and Betty swiftly discover they have nothing to say to each other. It's a nicely drawn scene by Romita who captures their sense of estrangement perfectly.

Back at college, suddenly, Peter's almost getting on with all those characters who he'd previously not got on with. Suddenly, he's horny for Gwen and she's horny for him.

There are more changes afoot as well, as Peter Parker buys a motorbike while Aunt May discusses moving out of the house she shares with him, and in with Anna Watson. And, to cap it all off, as he rides off into the sunset on his brand new motorbike, Peter ponders on his upcoming meeting with Anna Watson's niece and wonders what she'll be like.

Amazing Spider-Man #40. The Green Goblin's origin

(Not that they want to give away the ending or anything. Cover from September 1966.)

"Spidey Saves The Day!"

Written by Stan Lee.

Drawn by John Romita.

Inked by Mickey Demeo.

Lettered by Sam Rosen

Parenthood, it can be a tricky art to master. On the one hand you can be too lenient with your children, leaving them spoiled and complacent. On the other, you can become a crazed, homicidal maniac, out to kill Spider-Man and to become boss of all New York's criminal underworld. Happily for comic readers, Norman Osborn chose the latter.

In fairness it wasn't all his own fault. he'd been driven mad by the explosion of a mysterious green chemical whose formula he'd found lying around. Then again, he came across the formula by framing his business partner Professor Stromm. So, on the side of the angels he never was.

But this is the big one, the final and decisive showdown between the Green Goblin and the Amazing Spider-Man.

In fact, as the above summary suggests, we have to wait quite a while for it as the Goblin, unmasked, gives the captive Peter Parker the rundown on his entire history.

Actually, this really impresses me. Stan Lee's notorious for his poor memory and, so, to get a potted history of all of Spider-Man's meetings with the Goblin's quite a feat. I suspect he may have dug out the old back-issues for this one. Then again, given the nature of the Marvel Method, maybe it was John Romita who did the digging out.

John Romita always reckons that, when he first started drawing the strip, for the first few issues he was trying to ape Steve Ditko's style. I have to say I can't see any great signs of it here. The difference between his and Ditko's approach leaps out at you, with Romita's style being far more dynamic, dramatic and urgent. For the first time since he was introduced, the Goblin comes across as being genuinely dangerous and genuinely psychotic, as Norman Osborn sweats his way through his delusional self-justifications and tells of a sequence of events that he sees as having been a release for his true potential although it's clear to the rest of us that it was merely a descent into madness.

Needless, to say, despite this "potential" Spider-Man comes out on top as, kicked across the room by our hero, Osborn finds himself crashing into a mixture of chemicals and electricity that robs him of all memory of his notorious alter-ego. On one hand, the sudden amnesia's clearly a cop-out way of dealing with the problem that Spider-Man's arch enemy knows his secret identity. On the other, it leaves the way open for the future return of the Goblin and would later enable the strip's artists and writers to add to the sense of him as a menace that never quite goes away.

And so, the threat of the Green Goblin gone for now, the tale concludes with Peter Parker back at home, being mollycoddled by Aunt May, and Harry and Norman Osborn getting the chance to start all over again with each other. Who says the Amazing Spider-Man always has to have an unhappy ending?

Amazing Spider-Man #39. The Green Goblin unmasks Spidey

(Cover from August 1966.)

"How Green Was My Goblin!"

Written by Stan Lee.

Drawn by John Romita.

Inked by Mickey Demeo.

Lettered by Artie Simek.

I feel like Alexander the Great getting back to Babylon after trekking through the desert.

I know I shouldn't feel like that, Steve Ditko was, after all, the artist who did most to define what Spider-Man was about and there's no denying the elegance and beauty of much of his work but, somehow, I've always been grabbed more by John Romita's more dynamic, simpler and more conventional story-telling, and he makes a bang and a half in his debut tale, with the unmasking of Spider-Man and the revelation of the Green Goblin's true identity.

And, when it arrives, in that last panel, what a shock it is.

Well, alright, I admit, it's not much of a shock, There are only two people in this issue who he could realistically be; either Dr Bromwell or Norman Osborn. As The Goblin doesn't recognise Peter Parker when he sees him without his mask, it clearly can't be Bromwell, therefore, unless Lee and Romita really were going to pull something from out on our blind-side, it has to be Norman Osborn - you know, the man who's spent the last few issues trying to get rid of Spider-Man? In hindsight, the decision could never have been much of a surprise to readers but, given how things developed over the next few years, it was clearly the right one.

As for the tale itself, it's great. Following the long established pattern of mixing Peter Parker's domestic life with his super-hero one, we get a trip to ESU, a trip to the Daily Bugle, a trip to Peter Parker's house, complete with brief appearance from Aunt May who we're told earlier in the tale is a sick woman and must have no sudden shocks in her life. It's almost as though, fearing there might be resistance to the arrival of a new artist from out of the blue, John Romita and Stan Lee had decided to pack as many familiar elements in as they could, to reassure readers that it'd continue to still be the same old comic they'd always loved.

That's not to say there're no changes at all though. Clearly, with Ditko no longer on plotting duties, Lee was happy to start to make things the way he thought they should be and so, leaving aside that fact that everyone's suddenly better looking than they used to be, the major change is a distinct thawing in the relationship between Peter Parker and his classmates Flash Thompson and Harry Osborn.

It's no bad thing. Frankly, the, "Peter Parker's unfairly ostracized by his classmates," routine had grown tired long ago and should have been ditched when he first started going to university.

So, all in all, it's the start of a new era and it kicks off in style.

Amazing Spider-Man #151. The Shocker

(Cover from December 1975.)

"Skirmish Beneath The Streets!"

Words by Len Wein.

Art by Ross Andru/John Romita.

Lettering by John Costanza.

Colours by Glynis Wein.

Symbolism. You can find it everywhere. Spider-Man flings his clone into an incinerator, and the last trace of the Jackal storyline's consigned to history. Despatched too with that deed is the Gerry Conway era that spawned it because, after thirty nine issues, the writer's gone for good.

And he'll be missed.

He had many flaws; a total disregard for anything that resembled logic, a love of ludicrous plot developments and a tendency to change his cast's characterisation to suit his story's whims, but he also captured a sense of those characters as real flesh and blood people, as well as pushing the strip in new directions, introducing a harder, more modern edge and revitalising it with the aftermath of Gwen Stacy's death.

It's amazing to think that, at this point in the title's history, a full thirteen years after Spider-Man's creation, the odd guest slot aside, the strip had had just two writers. Maybe that explains its surprising level of consistency and readability over such a long period. Or maybe it was just something inherent in the character and the set-up.

Regardless, right from the start of this tale, we're promised a new era, with Len Wein in charge.

And how have things changed in this new era?

Well, not a lot. In fact, it's a month for the return of familiar faces, with John Romita helping Ross Andru on the art chores, Harry Osborn back from the sanitorium and the the Shocker zapping things for no good reason. Not only that but we get the return of a familiar trope as Peter Parker can't go to a party without having to sneak away to deal with trouble. It seems like Wein was determined to make the "new era" as reassuringly familiar as he could - or maybe he just wanted to have fun playing with as much of the established train set he'd just inherited as he could. Either way, it's not yet a new era. It's business as usual and, bearing in mind the mostly classic status of what's gone before, who's really going to complain about that?

Despite the return of the Shocker - who happens to be one of my favourite villains despite never quite making the major leagues - centrepiece of the tale is actually J Jonah Jameson and his attempts to play host to Ned and Betty's engagement party. Needless to say, it's a task he's completely unsuited for as he orders his guests to drink nothing but Dr Pepper's and bans them from playing his records - and even sitting down. The other standout moment is Peter Parker changing into Spider-Man while hanging from a helicopter. Both are reminders that, even in a super-hero book, a scene doesn't have to be about action to grab you.

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 #132. The Molten Man

(Cover from May 1974.)

"The Master Plan Of The Molten Man!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Art by John Romita/Paul Reinman/Tony Mortellaro.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by P Goldberg.

There are times when you just wish Spider-Man would shut up and think before he acts. This issue's a case in point as Gerry Conway continues his seeming quest to revive every old foe our hero has ever met. This time round we get the Molten Man.

And what a welcome return it is. I have to confess that, in the past, Moltie's never really lit my candle but, here, he's terrific, a man driven mad by his affliction, more interested in finding a cure for his plight than causing trouble but forced by his very nature to be a menace. You can't help feeling that, at a time like this Spidey should be more interested in helping Mark Raxton than in fighting him but, like I say, he doesn't always seem to believe in thinking before he acts.

And where does that policy leave him?

It leaves him lying at death's door as the tale draws to a close.

Will he learn anything from this?

Of course he won't.

A welcome return too for Liz Allen/Allan. You could hardly claim she's been missed in all these years but it's oddly pleasing to see her back again. I was going to knock Conway for having Peter say that Mary Jane and Liz never got on in the past, on the grounds that, as far as I was aware, they'd never even met. How wrong I was. There they are, in issue #25, having a pointed, if brief, encounter. Clearly Conway had a better memory for these things than I have.

Really, my only quibble with this tale is the heat issue. Spider-man seems able to hit the 300-degree Molten Man with impunity and to be hit with impunity. Peter Parker having a few blisters or the odd bit of heat rash after their encounter might at least have been some acknowledgement of the difficulties involved in battling such a foe.

Amazing Spider-Man #125. Man-Wolf

(Cover from October 1973.)

"Wolfhunt!"

Words by Gerry Conway.
Pencils by Ross Andru.
Inks by John Romita and Tony Mortellaro.
Lettering by Artie Simek.
Colours by Dave Hunt.

Who could take against a man called Ross Andru?

No one could.

The man only has first names, and that means you just have to like him. Even if you were trying to address him contemptuously by his surname, you'd still be calling him by a first name.

Happily, in this issue, there's nothing to take against. If a replacement was needed for Gil Kane, Andru was the perfect choice. Not only had he already been drawing the web-spinner for his other mag Marvel Team-Up but his love of extreme angles and exaggerated perspective was similar enough to Kane's to make the break from one artist to another almost seamless, and, here, he gets into his stride straight away, revelling in Spider-Man's agility and three dimensionality of movement. In fact, for the first few panels, his pencilling disguised by Romita and Mortellaro, it could be possible for the casual observer to not even notice that Kane had gone.

That aside, it's a good solid issue, nicely melodramatic, with Mary Jane acting a little oddly but that can be put down to the fact that, after years of determined shallowness, she doesn't actually know how to handle people with serious issues. Such a thing doesn't come naturally. It has to be learned and she's still at a stage in her development where her lack of judgement means she'll tend to listen to people, without the sense to know if she should be listening to them.

As for John Jameson. It's odd that, if the gem that turns him into the Man-Wolf is grafted to his skin, he's not tried seeing a surgeon about removing it. There is, of course, the question of why, if its powers respond to the rays of the moon, he hasn't tried covering it up.

Amazing Spider-Man #124. Man-Wolf makes his debut

(Cover from September 1973.)

"The Mark of the Man-Wolf"

Words by Gerry Conway.
Pencils by Gil Kane.
Inks by John Romita and T Mortellero.
Lettering by Artie Simek.
Colours by David Hunt.

Werewolves are like London buses. You go for years without seeing one and then two come along at once.

Only weeks after Spider-Man encounters his first Lycanthrope, in the form of Werewolf By Night (Marvel Team-Up #12), he's now up against another. Quite why Marvel Comics' powers-that-be decided our hero needed such a crash course in lupine savagery is anyone's guess. Still, it could have been worse. They could have given him a crash course in lupin savagery. Now there would have been a story to fear. In truth, the overdose of wolfmen's probably pure coincidence but who cares? For once, it gives Spidey a chance to fight villains who don't answer back.

So, that settled, which wolf is best?

For me it's got to be Man-Wolf. Leaving aside the fact he's got a snappier nomenclature, he's also got a costume - and his head actually looks like a wolf instead of a coconut. On top of that, the dramatic potential of him being J Jonah Jameson's son is far stronger than that of him being someone we'd never heard of (Jack Russell) until he got the mark of the beast.

Still, you have to feel sorry for John Jameson. Seemingly a decent chap, on his first appearance, way back in Amazing Spider-Man #1, his space capsule nearly crashed. In a subsequent appearance, deadly space spores turned him into a mad super-villain. And now, moon beams have turned him into a wolf. Clearly outer space and John Jameson don't mix. All the more unfortunate then that he's an astronaut.

I have to admit the era of the strip we're in now's my all-time favourite. I mean, the Ditko era has a charm all its own and I've always viewed the Romita epoch as "classic" Spider-Man but the months - and even years - in the wake of Gwen Stacy's death, and Peter Parker's subsequent romance with Mary Jane - not to mention the shifting in his relationships with the other characters, and with himself - grabs me the most.

And this issue? Highlights of the month have to be the closing panel, with Spidey looking the wrong way as the Man-Wolf leaps at him, and also Peter Parker, in class, snapping his pencil in half. Who would've thought that a man snapping an HB in two would grab you so much? It just goes to show it's a strange old world.

But then, John Jameson could have told you that.

Amazing Spider-Man #123. Luke Cage - hero for hire

(Cover from August 1973.)

"Just A Man Called Cage!"

Words by Gerry Conway.
Pencils by Gil Kane and John Romita.
Inks by John Romita and Tony Mortellaro.
Lettering by Artie Simek.
Colours by Dave Hunt.

There's a theory that, whatever your calendar might say, each decade actually begins three years into its tenure. Can it be the same rule applies to Spider-Man?

Perhaps.

In many ways Luke Cage is a corny and clichéd character and definitely a creation of his time. But he can also be a compelling one - hard-bitten and cynical, driven more by the need to make money than a desire to be the good guy - and his appearance in Spider-Man can be viewed in some ways as a precursor to the arrival of The Punisher. The Punisher, of course, has other motives but, like Cage, inhabits a landscape harder and meaner than our hero's previously inhabited. It may be 1973 but, maybe, in acknowledging a harsher reality out there, perhaps the rule stands true and this is the tale in which Spider-Man fully enters the 1970s.

Of course, being a pro doesn't mean Cage won't do the right thing in the end and he's a suitable foe for Spider-Man; even if, in reality, he wouldn't stand a chance against the web-spinner. Still, the fight allows Spidey to get a few things off his chest, and the contrast in mentality between the two characters makes the story work.

Cage also turns out to be a lot smarter than most foes Spidey's ever come across. He works out the three places our hero's most likely to be and, by a speedy process of elimination, works out exactly where to find him. It makes you wonder why none of his previous foes - or the police for that matter -have ever been that bright.

As for the set up, yet again we have the, "J Jonah Jameson gets someone in to capture Spider-Man," storyline. But this time it's different. This time, Jameson's motives seem pure. He really does see Spider-Man as a menace - and, for once, has good evidence to think so. With this and Joe Robertson's defence of Jameson early in the tale, it's a noticeably more balanced portrayal of the Daily Bugle publisher than we're used to and all the more welcome for it.

But there's other business here. There's still that shadowy figure from last issue, the one who saw the Green Goblin's death, and now, it transpires, has since removed the Goblin's costume to make the whole world think Spider-Man murdered Norman Osborn. Who is he? Who can he be?

I think we can guess.

But can we guess right?

Amazing Spider-Man #122. The Green Goblin dies

(Cover from July 1973.)

"The Goblin's Last Stand!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Art by Gil Kane/John Romita/Tony Mortellaro.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by Andy Yanchus.

"And so do the proud men die. Crucified not on a cross of gold but on a stake of humble tin." Issue #121 may be the attention grabber; the one in which Gwen Stacy actually dies but this is the issue that redefines the strip and redefines comics in general. Never before had a super-hero title dealt in raw emotion the way this one does. Not content with killing off one major character, we now have two bodies on our hands. First Peter Parker's greatest love and now his greatest enemy. Gerry Conway may have taken command many moons ago - and done it quietly - but this is the moment in which he positively shouts his arrival.

But Gwen and the Goblin aren't the only ones to have died this night. Steve Ditko's Spider-Man dies too, the wise-cracking one who fought villains out of a sense of responsibility. Now his co-creation's on a mission for vengeance and doesn't care who gets hurt along the way. The Goblin's cluelessness in this story's astonishing. He clearly doesn't get that this isn't the old Spider-Man he's up against. The rules have changed. This is Spider-Man as avenging angel. This is a foe even more murderous than he.

Spider-Man of course stops at murder. Marvel would never, and should never, let one of its heroes go that far - not, at least, without suffering the ultimate retribution themselves - but it means the Goblin never had a chance.

Dead too is the Mary Jane of old, the care-free, careless, callous party girl with the teflon persona to which nothing, not even being held at gunpoint in issue #59, sticks. In comes a new Mary Jane; perhaps not more complex but willing at least to show those complexities. When the Goblin calls Gwen a simpering, pointless girl who never did more than occupy space, was he merely voicing the thoughts of Conway? And is this why the tale ends with Mary Jane so prominent? Glad to be rid of her, Conway simply couldn't wait to fill the vacuum that he saw in Gwen?

But, in all this turmoil, there's one other strand. Just who is that figure lurking in the dark and what part can he have to play in all this?

Amazing Spider-Man #121. The Death of Gwen Stacy

(Cover from June 1973.)

"The Night Gwen Stacy Died"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Art by Gil Kane/John Romita/Tony Mortellaro.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by Andy Yanchus.

Just as lives change, so do times. Had this issue been produced in a more recent era, it would have been marketed as an, "event," with eight different variant covers, five million copies shipped and a media blitz. As it is, there's none of that.

Granted, the men behind it were shrewd enough to know they had a big deal on their hands. The cover lets you know that, as does the decision to hide the story's title until the very last panel. But they had the sense to not give the game away. We're told someone's going to die but not who. It means the comic gets by purely on surprise and power.

And of course the death of Gwen Stacy is more than a surprise. It's an outright shock. Never before had a comic done anything so dramatic or daring. Lois Lane might have got kidnapped on a virtually daily basis but you were never left in any doubt that, thanks to Superman, she'd escape without a scratch on her.

But this isn't Superman. This is Spider-Man; and Spider-Man does things differently.

But exactly how does she die? To me it's pretty unambiguous. As Spider-Man fires his webbing to save her, he hears a, "Swik."

We see a, "Snap."

Clearly the sudden halt to her descent has broken her neck, killing her instantly.

The Goblin has other ideas, claiming that a fall from that height would kill anyone long before they hit the ground. Oh yeah? Try telling that to all the zillions of parachutists out there. No no no, in his attempts to save her, Spider-Man - not the Green Goblin - killed Gwen Stacy, and that makes her death all the more shocking.

But, shock ending aside, does the story actually stand up?

Well, yeah, in its own way. It has to be said that, up to the climax, it's not an exceptional tale. Harry's on the drugs - been done before. Norman Osborn, a man under pressure, snaps and rushes to a secret hideout to become the Green Goblin - been done before. Peter Parker goes into battle feeling under the weather - been done before. We even get the obligatory scene at the Daily Bugle where J Jonah Jameson has a rant at Peter before discovering he's got sensational pictures of Spider-Man. So, all in all, just another Spider-Tale from the production line that's been churning them out for a decade now.

But, in a way, that's the story's strength. It means you're not prepared for it to become so epoch-making. Yes, we know someone's going to die but the front cover hints at one of a whole bunch of people. Events early on suggest it's either Harry or Norman Osborn. The cover implies it might even be Randy Robertson, a dispensable character if ever there was one. And, had this story been done now, you know it would've been a double-length issue, with the last few pages each containing less frames than the one before until it climaxed with one big frame (And mustn't forget the internal monologue that'd accompany each picture. Mustn't forget to let us know just what Peter Parker's thinking as his beloved plummets to her death. The word, "no" would have featured at some point, as well as, "can't.").

OK, so this does end with one big frame - but the build up to it involves no gimmicks, just the style of story-telling we'd expect to see in any issue. And the normality of the tale, the fact that it's executed just like any other up until that fateful scene, that's why the climax hits so hard when it arrives.

Amazing Spider-Man #120. The Hulk in Canada

(Cover from May 1973.)

"The Fight And The Fury!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Pencils by Gil Kane.

Inks by John Romita/Tony Mortellaro.

Art assist by P. Reinman.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Colours by Stan G.

Hard to believe that something the size of the Hulk might quickly become an irrelevance but, oddly enough, that's exactly what he is this issue. After all the big build up, last month, to the fight between the not-so-jolly green giant and the webbed wonder, this issue, he doesn't really need to be in it at all.

The core of the tale is this; Peter Parker goes to meet the mysterious lawyer Mssr Rimbaud, only for the solicitor to be shot before he can tell Peter what the big deal with his aunt is. All of which makes Spider-Man's twin meetings with the Hulk so much padding. Remove them and the outcome of the tale would be exactly the same. It's inevitable I suppose. Whatever Spidey's many attributes, he's never going to win a fight with the Hulk, so any action between the two can only be used as a temporary diversion in a wider plot.

On the art front, Gil Kane's back. His layouts this issue don't seem as imaginative as they have in the past but, of course, they still have all their usual polish and slickness.

Something that's oddly pleasing to me is the final panel on the page where the Hulk uproots a column and flings it at our hero. The depiction of the Hulk in that frame is remarkably Ditko-esque. I'm sure it's pure coincidence, just a natural overlap in styles but still, it's oddly pleasing to be reminded, at this late stage, of the strip's original artist.

How unlucky is Peter Parker? It's the second issue running where he happens to be in a vehicle that just happens to blunder straight into the path of the gamma-spawned monster. I mean, really, what're the chances?

Amazing Spider-Man #119. The Hulk in Canada

(Cover from April 1973.)

"The Gentleman's Name Is... The Hulk!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Art by John Romita.

Lettering by John Costanza.

Colours by Andrea Hunt.

Spider-Man and the Hulk. Kindred spirits in so many ways. Both men of science. Both products of a radiation-based accident. Both misunderstood by a society that views them as a menace. Both of them Marvel big hitters.

Odd then that, up to this point, they'd met so rarely. In fact, off the top of my head, this is their first real encounter I can recall. Oh yeah, they met in Amazing Spider-Man #14 and Amazing Spider-Man King-Size Special #3 but, in both cases, their encounter was brief and only part of a bigger story (Spidey vs the Enforcers/Green Goblin, Spidey auditions for the Avengers). Here, they finally get a full-fledged battle to themselves.

And what a battle it is, as the Hulk and the military fling everything they've got at each other. There're times when Romita's ability to capture action is truly remarkable

But it's interesting to see Romita and Conway's take on the Hulk - and on General Thunderbolt Ross. It's a more violent view of both characters than we're used to from Jade Jaws' own mag. For instance, by this point in that strip's history, Ross had mellowed into a more thoughtful character, torn between a sense of guilt that he might have to kill his daughter's beloved, and a sense of duty to stop the Hulk before he causes a major catastrophe.

Not here he's not.

Here, he rants his way through the story - J Jonah Jameson style - in a portrayal that owes more to his original depiction in the early days of The Incredible Hulk comic.

As for the green one, here he's positively murderous in his rage. Not for Conway and Romita the tortured beast who only wants to sit on a log and play with the wildlife. Here, we have a creature that attacks everyone and everything in its path, with no regard at all for human life. At the story's close - as the Hulk's trying to kill him - Spidey declares that the behemoth doesn't want to hurt anyone, but the truth is that, in this tale, he seems to want to hurt everyone and everything. Even a dam!

Other points. The driver of the truck the Hulk attacks should be court-martialled on the spot if he can't see a ten foot tall, bright green man looming mere feet ahead of him. Also interesting to see that Spidey's webbing seems to have grown in strength dramatically, judging by the huge lump of rock it stops, mid-flight, and then sends zooming back to the Hulk.

Norman Osborn's acting a little strange this issue. Hmn. Wonder what that could mean?

Amazing Spider-Man #118. The Smasher and the Disruptor

(Cover from March 1973.)

"Countdown to Chaos!"

Words by Stan Lee/Gerry Conway.

Art by John Romita/Jim Mooney/Tony Mortellaro.

Lettering by Rosen/Duffy.

Colours by Stan G.

Confusion. It was the title of an old ELO song and it might as well be the title of this titanic tale. At one point Spider-Man gets so befuddled, he calls Joe Robertson, "Joe Robinson". Never can a man have been so confused since Bruce Banner spent a whole issue of the Fantastic Four calling himself Bob.

But then there's no wonder our hero's confused. Anyone who wouldn't be baffled by the goings-on in this tale would need the mental storage-capacity of Einstein and the deductive powers of Jessica Fletcher. In a nutshell, this is it: Spidey tracks the Smasher to the Disruptor's HQ and discovers the Disruptor is in fact hugely popular mayoral candidate Richard Raleigh.

Well that's no surprise. Hands up anyone who didn't see that coming? What I didn't see coming was the total lack of explanation for any of it. The obvious assumption is that Raleigh was trying to boost his electoral chances by staging a series of attacks against himself. The only problem is, Raleigh was leading the polls all the way and didn't need to do any such thing. Certainly not anything this risky. It also doesn't come across as his motivation back at his lair, where his motivation seems to be... ...erm... ...er... ...erm...

That aside, the Disruptor's clearly a complete plank. Not content with wearing a terrible costume no self-respecting villain would be seen dead in, he does the old super-villain thing of completely ignoring his scientific advisor, thus getting carried away with his remote control and sending his own creation on the rampage.

Nice touch of the issue has to the be the "scrolling" news updates that accompany Spidey's fight with the Smasher.

Lowlight of the issue has to be Harry Osborn's startling resemblance to Aunt May when he spots the Smasher heading towards the gang's van.

Mary Jane has a strange personality transplant and is happy to see Gwen and Peter together, whilst chastising Harry for paying too much attention to them and not to her. That's the girl who's spent the last couple of years coming onto Pete in front of Harry at every possible opportunity? Does one spot the moment when Gerry Conway's rehabilitation of Mary Jane as a character began? Did he already have in mind what we later found out he had in mind?

Amazing Spider-Man #117. The Smasher and the Disruptor

(Cover from February 1973.)

"The Deadly Designs of the Disruptor!"

Words by Stan Lee/Gerry Conway.
Art by John Romita/Jim Mooney/T Mortellaro.
Lettering by Sam Rosen/Artie Simek.

Colours by Stan G.

The Amazing Spider-Man goes into full-blown cornball mode with the arrival of... ...the Disruptor. So-called, presumably, because he disrupts political meetings. Let's face it, as concepts go, disrupting political meetings isn't quite on a par with Galactus, the eater of worlds, and the man seems to have the same blind costume designer as Daredevil's Masked Marauder.

Regardless of his less-than-classic status, we're left to ponder just who the Disruptor could be.

Except that anyone with a brain between the ears already knows who he is; especially as Peter Parker keeps dropping hints that all might not be right with Richard Raleigh - as does Joe Robertson. And, of course, that fabulous judge of character, J Jonah Jameson is a big fan of Raleigh's. So why do I get the feeling readers aren't exactly going to be gobsmacked when the big reveal happens next issue?

The Smasher's still in this saga but might as well not be, appearing only briefly in the middle and end of the issue and suffering from the fact that he has no mind of his own and we never got to see him before he became The Smasher. Herein probably lies the basis for why - in the annals of comicdom - despite looming so large he ultimately left no shadow.

Nice to see that Mary Jane's previous interest in politics seems to come down to nothing more than lust.

Amazing Spider-Man #116. The Smasher

(Cover from January 1973.)

“Suddenly… The Smasher!”

Words by Stan Lee/Gerry Conway.
Pencils by John Romita.
Inks by Jim Mooney.

Well, knock me down with a kipper. If it isn’t Stan (the Man) Lee, back in the writer’s chair and ready to thrill us all with his latest tale.

Well, not really. If my understanding’s right, this is a story devised for the original, short-lived Spectacular Spider-Man comic, way back in the 1960s, dusted off and redone for this era.

And it shows. The whole thing feels like a tale from six or seven years earlier and, as such, it’s oddly pleasing. You almost expect Peter Parker to drop into the Coffee Bean for a quick round of quick-fire banter with Flash and the gang. Sadly, it never happens.

The tale itself is oddly familiar, with strong echoes of the Bullitt storyline (whole city eager to vote for a politician who’s vowing to smash the crime wave. JJ flinging The Daily Bugle’s weight behind his campaign. Joe Robertson being suspicious about him), and Romita tips his hand way too early by letting us know from Moment One that Richard Raleigh’s a ranting basket case. It would’ve been more effective to leave us thinking he was the real deal. Instead, we’re left in no doubt that he’s going to turn out to be the villain of the piece and that, therefore, he’s the man behind The Smasher.

The Smasher, what can you say about him? Somehow, the name alone lets you know he’s not destined to go down as one of Marvel’s great villains and I know from trying - and failing - to sell these issues on eBay, how little interest in them there is. They’re pretty much the only issues from the early 70s that are next to impossible to shift.

Mary Jane’s into politics? Really?

On other fronts, yet again Peter Parker shows his tendency to defy all logic. He spots that the ceiling’s supporting beam is going, so he makes his excuses, slips away, wrecks the lights and leaps up onto the ceiling to fix it with his webbing - which isn’t strong enough - when he could just have shouted to people to evacuate the hall.

And now, because of it we’re all going to have to endure a cliff-hanger ending of unbelievable tension and drama.

Oh Peter, will you never learn?

Amazing Spider-Man #115. Dr Octopus and Hammerhead

(Cover from December 1972.)

"The Last Battle!"

Words by Gerry Conway.

Art by John Romita/Tony Mortellaro.

Lettering by Artie Simek.

Two facts emerge from this tale.

One. Aunt May has the intelligence of a cabbage. Even after all these encounters with Doc Ock, she still hasn't figured out he's a bad guy.

Two. Her heart's clearly coming on in leaps and bounds. A woman who traditionally collapses at the sight of a kitten, somehow manages to get through an armed siege on a house and two encounters with Spider-Man - during one of which she tries to shoot him - and her heart seems fine. You start to wonder if she's been putting it on all these years, just to get sympathy.

May Parker aside, you can't get away from it, this is one of the most action-packed issues of recent years - and all the better for it. After a couple of not very memorable months, the tale suddenly bursts into life, with out-and-out war between its two villains, and also starts to set things up for the future. At the very end of the story, Hammerhead even briefly manages to become an interesting character; and that takes some doing.

Highlight of the month has to be the "gentleman" act Dr Octopus puts on for Aunt May during his confrontation with Spidey. You get the feeling Conway was having fun with it.

On other fronts, Gwen's still calling Aunt May, "Mrs Parker." Sigh.

Amazing Spider-Man #114. Dr Octopus and Hammerhead

(Cover from November 1972.)

"Gang War, Shmang War! What I want To Know Is...Who The Heck Is Hammerhead?"

Words by Gerry Conway.
Art by John Romita/Jim Starlin/T Mortellaro.
Lettering by Artie Simek.

Hammerhead. What images that name conjures up. Right from the moment you first hear it, you know what a character called Hammerhead's going to be like; a deadly opponent of the Sub-Mariner. Sleek and deadly, armed with huge strength and cunning.

What's that? He's not? Turns out he's just some two-bit hood with a hard head?

You may have guessed I've never been a huge fan of Hammerhead. I mean, if Spider-Man - or anyone else - wants to beat him, all they have to do is make sure to hit him anywhere except the noggin.

Sadly, this never seems to occur to either Spidey or Doc Ock, two men of proven genius. The story itself''s OK but I don't think anyone's going to be putting it on their list of Spider-Man classics. I also have to say that Hammerhead's revolving office is plain ludicrous. Exactly what purpose it serves for the villain is anyone's guess.

Highlight of the tale has to be its climax, with Aunt May in league with Dr Octopus and clobbering Spider-Man - also introducing the concept that Spidey can't sense threats if they come from friends or loved ones. It's an idea Gerry Conway would use again in a far more significant tale than this but, right now, it's new, and if there's an ending you didn't see coming, it has to be this one.

On the art front, it's the second issue running that Jim Starlin gets an art assist credit - and the second issue running that I can't see even the vaguest hint of his involvement. I guess that, despite having once been bitten by a radioactive artist detector, my artist detector sense isn't all it could be.

Or perhaps I can only detect art assists from my enemies and not from my friends and loved ones...?