Today the BAB is proud to welcome one of our long-time and faithful readers/commenters to the writer's chair. You know him as Dr. Oyola; he regularly writes about comics and music on his own
blog,
The Middle Spaces (
www.themiddlespaces.com).
Dr. Oyola: Sometimes in taking a close look at something we like, we
come to learn that maybe we don’t like it as much as we thought we did. Or
perhaps, more accurately, we are able to better see the complexity and nuance
of our relationship to it. Take for instance Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale’s Spider-Man: Blue from 2002-03, which is
the focus of this review/overview. I first picked it up because it seemed right
up my alley—a re-telling/re-imagining of the beginning of the John Romita, Sr.
era of Amazing Spider-Man. I love
adaptations and re-tellings and I love Silver Age Spider-Man, so it seemed like
a no-brainer to get it. Plus, the art looked pretty amazing. However, after the
first two issues or so I decided it wasn’t so good after all. I can’t recall
exactly what it was that led me to that opinion, but I think I got the rest of
the series without even bothering to read it all. Instead, not too soon after I
put the whole series up on eBay. No one wanted to buy it! Stuck with it, I stored them with the rest of
my comics and on a whim reread the whole thing in one sitting a few years later
and decided my original estimation was wrong. I was glad I had failed to sell
them. I recently returned to them while doing research on a
post on my own blog on romance comics (and to some degree their influence
on superhero comics) and decided that they’d be a good subject of a Bronze Age Babies guest post—taking a
look at a relatively recent re-framing of a Silver Age romance whose
dissolution through death marks the beginning of the Bronze Age for many. The
thing is, as I said above, now having spent a lot more time examining the
series, I find myself returning to ambivalence. I am split. I love the art and
the visual storytelling, but when it comes to the writing, while I appreciate
the updated dialog and how some of the elements of the plot are handled,
overall its failures are less acceptable than in the original material seeing
as Loeb had 30+ intervening years to get it right.
Spider-Man: Blue
is a six-issue mini-series that came out as part of the Marvel Knights imprint
in 2002-03. Each issue is referred to as “Book One,” “Book Two,” and so on, and
each one uses the name of a classic popular love song for a title: “My Funny
Valentine,” “Let’s Fall in Love,” “Anything Goes,” “Autumn in New York,” “If I
Had You” and “All of Me.” It was the second in a series of
re-telling/re-imaginings of early days of Marvel heroes, which started with Daredevil: Yellow, and included Hulk: Grey and Captain America: White. 
I haven’t read the others, but the
Daredevil one looks interesting. All of the series were written by Jeph Loeb
(who has done a lot of uneven, and even highly criticized work for both Marvel
and DC) and Tim Sale who does a great job emulating John Romita, Sr, with an
occasional flourish that reminds me of Steve Ditko.
While Spider-Man: Blue
is ostensibly a re-imagining/re-telling of Amazing
Spider-Man #40 to #48 and #63 with a focus on the love triangle between
Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy and Mary Jane Watson which haunts Peter and MJ way
past Gwen’s death and into the days of their marriage, the series is really a
love letter to those early Lee/Romita, Sr. days, as there is plenty of
superhero action and focus on interaction of some of the supporting cast. Each
issue features a small scroll/banner that reads, “Dedicated to Stan Lee &
Steve Ditko & John Romita, Sr. Web-heads all!” As such, I went back and read the original
issues this series is based on, however, and just like every time I read Silver
and Bronze Age comics I was amazed at how much they used to squeeze into a
single issue back then (I miss those days), so there is a lot left out as well,
including references to the main plot of some of those intervening issues from
which some of the relationship stuff emerges, leading to Loeb and Sale
compressing the stories and having to find new ways for events from disparate
issues in their original telling to flow together.
The series is framed through the conceit of modern day more
adult Peter, now married to MJ, recording audio tapes every Valentine’s Day as
if he were talking to Gwen, re-telling her the story of their meeting and early
relationship now that he can admit his alter ego. Throughout the six issues,
Peter Parker narrates his own story through the blue text boxes that float in
the panels. The first issue opens with Spider-Man swinging his way to the top
of one of the towers of the Brooklyn Bridge to lay a flower from where Gwen
Stacy fell to her death—but wait, didn’t she fall of off the George Washington
Bridge? This is one of those things that continuity has gone back and forth
about since in Amazing Spider-Man
#122, the text calls it the GWB, but Gil Kane drew it as the Brooklyn Bridge. I
go back and forth on which I prefer. Regardless, the narration and story then
jumps to the events of ASM #40,
unlike the obsession with her death that has become common—from the
confrontation with the Jackal in the original clone saga to the attempt by the
Green Goblin much later after his return to throw Mary Jane off the Brooklyn
Bridge (Marvel Knights: Spider-Man
#12)—Spider-Man: Blue is about the
beginning of their relationship not the end. So while, “My Funny Valentine” may
start with an infamous confrontation with the Green Goblin, this is meant to
set up and contextualize the relationship with Harry Osborn, through which
Peter meets Gwen.
The re-telling of the warehouse scene with the Green Goblin
from ASM #40 sets the tone for the
liberties Loeb and Sale take with the source material. For example, the Goblin
himself never takes off his mask (or else has already put it back on), and the
way Peter frees himself and attacks the Goblin is totally different, though the
results are the same, including the arrival of the firemen and the passing off
of a now amnesiac Norman Osborn. There are other less apparent changes in how
the story unfolds in Book One, like Peter pays for his motorcycle in cash from
a biker looking dude in Spider-Man: Blue,
while in ASM #41 he has to call J.
Jonah Jameson to vouch for his bank loan. In addition, Loeb and Sale take
further liberty in making it seem like Peter and Gwen don’t have their moment
of romantic chemistry until both happen to be in the hospital visiting Norman Osborn,
and having Peter give her a ride on his new motorcycle, when in ASM, they already know each other, there
is no hospital scene. They talk when he runs into her with Harry and Flash, but
then he goes home to show the bike off to Aunt May and Anna Watson instead.
There are tons of other changes ranging in importance in the
details and order of events throughout Spider-Man:
Blue but I am not bothered by most of them, in fact I quite like it, as I
imagine it being the result of faulty memory many years after the fact in
Peter’s re-telling. 
One of the things I like most about the changes is in the
dialog—whether you think of them as corrections on the part of Loeb or
self-corrections on the part of Parker’s memory— is that Peter does not come as
much a sexist creep when talking to Mary Jane and Gwen. Seriously, re-reading
the issue the series is based on, I cringed every time he called one or the
other “doll” or did the 1960s equivalent of what pick-up artists call “negging,”
talking down to them and getting all defensive when asked a question.
In scenes involving these young women, since the story as a
whole is meant to focus more on their relationships than on Spidey action
(though there is plenty of that, too), they are given a little more
intelligence and agency. For example, unlike in ASM #43, where Peter just makes an excuse about taking pictures of
the Rhino and leaves Mary Jane in the crowd, in Spider-Man: Blue Book Three—“Anything Goes”—she is the one who
comes up with a plan, flirting with a cop, to allow Peter to get past the
barricades in order to ostensibly take pictures (but really to tackle the
Lizard, not the Rhino—another of those changes). 
The great thing about this
version is that it works both if you are an old schooler who prefers a version
where Mary Jane did not know his identity, or someone like me who loves that it
was eventually revealed that she
knew he was Spider-Man all along. In my mind, I like that she is really
helping him to do his Spider-Man thing, but not letting on. Another
example—this one from Book Two—which retroactively echoes the Gwen Stacy of the
recent Spider-Man films, she is seen working in the lab at Empire University
(and where Miles Warren, later to become the Jackal, makes a cameo). Or did she
always major in biochemistry? I just don’t recall any scenes of her working in
a lab in the original Amazing Spider-Man
run, save for her first appearance where Harry and Flash use her as a
distraction in chem lab to play a trick on Peter—but that can hardly be
considered her “working” in the lab. When Spider-Man seeks out Curt Connors’
help in making special webbing to melt the Rhino’s suit, it is based on an idea
he originally gotten from something Peter and Gwen were developing together in
class. I like that Loeb and Sale make an effort to give the love interests some
depth and character, rather than just existing as eye candy and props in
Peter’s story.
Book Three focuses on the return of the Lizard (one of my
all-time favorite Spider-Man villains), by combining the events of ASM #43 and #44, but more directly
linking the transformation to the special webbing Dr. Connors helps develop,
which in part has its basis in the same self-replicating materials that
re-grows his arm—there is a foreshadow to his return stuck into his scene in Book
Two. More importantly to the theme of the series, a good fourth of the issue
depicts 
Peter bringing Mary Jane to the Silver Spoon to meet the rest of “the
gang:” Flash, Harry and Gwen, and how that interferes with his burgeoning
romance with Gwen. Events outside of the supporting cast scenes are a lot more
compressed. Loeb and Sale do a great job staging superhero/supervillain
throwdowns, but the situations are re-imagined to make time for how things
develop in Peter’s social life. So, gone is everything with Aunt May’s ill
health and her taking a trip to the seaside, the extended nature of
Spider-Man’s hunt for the Lizard, and the injury to Spider-Man’s arm (a trope
that is one of my favorites—how often has he hurt his arm and fashioned a makeshift
sling?) in favor of a more direct and immediate approach.
Again, I am not arguing that his is better than what are to
me some classic issues of Amazing
Spider-Man. Instead, I see this series as supplemental. In fact, I’d say
that the original issues are better, but
it is nice to see a relatively contemporary comic paying respectful homage to
the Silver Age. Furthermore, despite there being places where the re-arranging
of the plot reveals weakness in the writing, Tim Sale’s art seems to get stronger as
the series develops. His art is especially showcased by two-page splashes on
the second and third page of each issue, but there are others scattered
throughout that are beautiful, full of movement and/or depth of emotion. The
first one is not so great, though the blue tone of the coloring (by Steve
Buccellato) is apt to the melancholy theme of the series’ framing, but they get
better and better. My favorite is the kitchen scene at Aunt May’s house in Book
Four, but Spidey taking on both Vultures (Adrian Toomes and Blackie Drago) in
Book Five is pretty friggin’ awesome, too. In addition, the art in the series
evokes the 1960s story beats, and those origins remain to me the quintessential
Spider-Man era.
Book Five—“If I Had You”—is essentially ASM #63, put before the events of ASM #47. In it Adrian Toomes escapes the
prison hospital with the help of Kraven the Hunter, who it turns out has been
stalking Spider-Man in order to complete the hit on our hero taken out by the
(now thought dead) Green Goblin (Kraven, drawn in shadow, also freed the Rhino
back in Book Two). When Kraven the Hunter explains that Toomes is not dying and
that Blackie poisoned him, he gives the old man the antidote and sends him
after Blackie as revenge for failing to kill Spider-Man in the previous issue
(the events of ASM #48). It is during
Spidey’s fight with both Vultures that Flash Thompson is depicted walking
around wondering why Peter Parker’s star seems on the rise while his is fading
is put into danger and Spider-Man has to save him. It is a great scene, and it
leads to Flash reconsidering what he is doing with his life when he realizes
that Spider-Man is probably no older than he is and is doing so much with his
life. He breaks the news to his friends afterwards: he is joining the army.
This is the change in the re-telling that I have mixed
feelings about. I really don’t like it, but at the same time, the scenes depicting
it are well-staged. What bugs me is making Flash Thompson volunteer for the
U.S. Army rather than be drafted, as happened in the original run. While I can
understand wanting to update the timeline in such a way that his enlistment is
not tied to conscription, and thus the Vietnam War, there is nothing else in Spider-Man: Blue that changes the feel
of the time period. 
Even Peter’s casual sexism isn’t necessarily connected to
the Sixties, since I am sure there were plenty of young men who didn’t talk to
women that way, just as there are plenty who still do (with whatever update to
that language). Loeb does a great job developing the sense of Peter and Flash’s
crossing social and economic trajectories, but I think Flash being drafted
really captures the change of fortune due to forces way beyond our control
(kind of like being bitten by a radioactive spider, but worse). 
Suddenly, part
of what makes Peter Parker an outsider is saving him from a fate that many
young men faced in the mid-to-late 60s. As Gwen says in ASM #43, “I don’t think they’d take Peter! He’s a scholarship
student -- at the very top of his class!” By making Flash being saved by
Spider-Man the impetus for enlistment it removes the parallel imposed
responsibility between the characters. Plus, in the context of the controversy
of the Vietnam Era (or really any war…uh, I mean “police action” since) the
idea of Flash “helping people” by joining the army is cast into doubt. Better
he should be something more arguably selfless, like a firefighter—but of course
that would have been too much a change and not line up with continuity (still,
if it led to him not ending up as “Agent Venom” wearing the black suit symbiote
for the government, as he is these days, it’d be worth it).
The final issue of
Spider-Man: Blue takes the greatest liberties, because it not only changes
the order of events from the original, but changes the very reason that Kraven
crashes Flash’s going away party at Harry and Peter’s. Originally, Kraven
kidnaps Harry to get at Norman Osborn who Kraven thinks works for the Green
Goblin. 
In Spider-Man: Blue, Kraven
confuses Spider-Man’s scent with Harry’s (something about him borrowing Peter’s
cologne) and thinks Harry is Spider-Man. He tries to kill the young Osborn in
order to finally fulfill the contract put out on Spider-Man by the Green
Goblin.
I have to say that even as the art and visual storytelling
in this series gets better and better the story work in terms of the writing
seems to lose steam as the threads start to fray. The weakness of the whole cologne
thing, for example, is highlighted by Peter’s narration explaining that Kraven
must have been so embarrassed by his mistake that he “never tried that stunt
again.” You’d think as sharp a hunter as Kraven would be able to figure out
that it must have been someone else at Flash’s party, especially since
Spider-Man showed up to save Harry and beat his butt so quickly. Furthermore,
if Kraven knows there is a connection between Norman Osborn and the Green
Goblin, what sense would it make that Spider-Man would be his son?
The series seems to have two distinct endings. First there
is Peter finally getting back home after fighting Kraven the Hunter and Gwen
Stacy finds him there. She is in a slinky black dress and what looks like a
white fur coat and kind of presents herself to him in a very sexy way. The
suggestion is that they consummate their relationship that night and then start
to date. This feels kind of abrupt and a little too contemporary a notion of
the development of a romantic relationship, which is weird since the whole
premise of the series is supposed to be an examination of the romance in that
era of Amazing Spider-Man, but
despite Peter calling this a “love story” in his narration and a couple of
scenes involving the love triangle of Peter/Gwen/MJ, this element feels lost in
the events of the battling Vultures and Kraven’s attack. The actual ending of Spider-Man: Blue is back in the
“present” of Peter Parker telling this story into the recorder as a way of
talking to the now dead Gwen, closing the frame that opens the series. It turns
out Mary Jane (still Peter’s wife at this time) was listening in, but rather
than express jealousy at Peter’s continuing obsession with his dead former
girlfriend, she tells him “To tell Gwen hello” for her—demonstrating her deep
understanding of his feelings and her own feelings for her dead friend and one
time competitor for Peter’s affections. There is a definite sense that Peter is
finally moving on, but that this final reflection on his love of Gwen was a
necessary step to do that.
In the end I have to rate Tim Sale’s art (complemented by
Steve Buccellato’s coloring) as the selling point for this series. There are
elements of the re-telling that are very strong, but overall I’d say it is
uneven—perhaps others would come to different conclusions. I am particularly
impressed by the composition of some singular panels that have a certain
quietude to them that evoke the depth of tension in Peter’s life. The splash
page kitchen scene is a great example, but so is a panel simply showing Aunt
May’s hand going into “the kitty” (literally a cat-shaped cookie jar) for the
money for Peter’s motorcycle.
One last note about Spider-Man:
Blue: I know there is a trade that collects all six issues, but I have the
original issues with high-quality heavy bond covers and interior pages. For
some reason Marvel chose to include ads in those original issues (which for a
high concept higher price point limited series seems weird) and in two cases
included back-up stories that are essentially BS. One of them features Jay
Leno (!) as a guest-star helping Spider-Man fight ninjas, but is part two of a
two-part story whose first part appears in some other title at some other time.
It makes no sense. It really takes away from the special feel of the issues.
And there you have it. I hope you’ve enjoyed this
review/overview. I know Spider-Man: Blue
itself is not a Bronze Age Comic, nor is it even based on a Bronze Age comic,
but most folks around here seem to have a lot of respect for the comics of the
Silver Age, and anyway, without the Silver Age to inform our precious Bronze
Age stories, we wouldn’t be here.