Amazing Spider-Man #700

I've loved Spider-Man for a very long time. An insidious, unconditional love, that twists perspectives.

I say that because when J. Michael Straczynski wrote for Amazing Spider-Man, I bought it every month, and hardly perceived how much darker the book had gotten. What did he have, a five year run? Six? Without a doubt, Straczynski defined an era for the web-head. When One More Day happened, magically wiping away, SPECIFICALLY, Peter Parker's 25 year marriage to Mary Jane Watson, it was a travesty that Straczynski didn't want his name attached to.

Brand New Day was how Spider-Man was re-introduced after this status quo shift, now a weekly book with a rotating creative staff, all new villains, and, surprisingly, a new lease on life.

I couldn't wait to see what this Brand New Day fuss was all about. I forget if I was coming or going from school, but I stopped on a bench at Downsview station and read that first issue. And it was amazing! In a flash the darkness of the Straczynski run was revealed to me. How had I not seen it? Here was Spider-Man! Hello again, old friend! (this despite the crassness of having the first image of that issue be Peter Parker making out with some young hottie in a night club. It was a subtle touch guys. Reeeal subtle.)

I greatly appreciated the rotating creative team, not just for the different styles I got to enjoy (no more 6 year stretches of darkness) but for the fact that each team undoubtedly acted as a counter to the others. You had an out there idea? Great! But it has to be vetted by all these other guys, each with their own ideas. I personally found this era to be a highlight in the career of the Spider-Man comic.

I have just finished reading Amazing Spider-Man #700. Once again, I didn't wait to get home. I wasn't riding on the bus, heading to this appointment or that. I bought this comic, wandered over to a bench in the Agincourt Mall where I bought this comic, and sat and read it from cover to cover.

This wasn't from any excitement on my part. Due to spoilers on the internet (and, to give terrible credit where it's due, much of this spoiling happened before any actual comic panels had been released, spoiled instead by a misguided attempt at hyping the story by the very creators themselves! When the contents of the issue cause the internet to fold in on itself in incoherent rage, know that it was the creators themselves that built up this dread in me.) I wanted to see how bad it was. How much damage had been done.

How did we get to this point? An all too short time ago, the Spider-Man comic was riding high. What changed? Amazing Spider-Man #700 is only the latest, most overt, example of a theme by Dan Slott.

Now don't get me wrong. The man does good work. His was the first name listed on that Brand New Day issue that had me so enthralled in my spot at Downsview station those years ago. The mini-series "Spider-Man and the Human Torch" was equal parts funny, exciting, and a touching homage to the bygone eras of stories past. But for the past few years, Slott has been doing his best to change Spider-Man.

Changing Spider-Man. That's a tricky thing to attempt, altering the core of a character that has been around since 1962. If you were to try it, then a light touch is required. A gentle course correction so that the end result, if we absolutely must have your end result, is an organic one.

Obviously the perfect example of the opposite of what I'm talking about is having a mystical demon show up to "make a deal" and then magic things into how they "should" be. That this is exactly how Brand New Day got it's set up should be revelatory of the kind of culture at work creating these stories, and why I shouldn't be surprised when something similar happens in the future (though on a lighter scale, because, come ON. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, and I burn your institution to the ground.)

Here is the change in a nutshell. "Spider-Man is a good looking, brilliant, super-empowered hero, with plenty of friends in that super hero community. So why is he a broke loser with no job? THAT doesn't make sense. So I will fix it." This is a short sighted, wish fulfillment or "fan-ish" approach to the character that ignores two very important factors. First is the real neurotic, self destructive quality of Peter Parker/Spider-Man that sabotages his efforts to be a not-"broke loser with no job". To try and proceed with making Parker a success without addressing that self destructive quality, to pretend that he is a victim of "the old Parker luck", is to forfeit claims to understanding the character.

The second factor it ignores is the meta narrative one. Peter Parker Spider-Man is an everyman who worries about money, gets the sniffles, etc. etc. These very real world problems, this level of relatability, is core to the success of the character (how many letter column entries at the back of a Spidey book have told the tale of someone loving Spider-Man because of how they identified with the character? Brother, they weren't identifying with the web-slinging, super side!), to attempt to change that is to play with the hottest of fires. This is the same reason why Oracle couldn't, despite living in a world of wonders, regain the use of her legs. If she ever did, the character would be fundamentally altered- which, whether or not you like the current Batgirl book, I think everyone could agree that Barbara Gordon, ex- Oracle, is no longer the same person as Batgirl.

Slott has taken leave of his senses and decided to cure his hero's tragic flaw. Not through any earned progression, but through magic changes out of nowhere.

Parker is out of work and low on funds. Solution? Marla Jameson shows up using her connections as a scientist to hook Peter up with "Max Modell" super genius operator of Horizon Labs, who ends up giving Peter the job of his dreams. Be a scientist. Oh, you have to leave unexpectedly to fight crime? No worries! We're a progressive institution, come and go as you please. You have experiments on hand that'd reveal your identity as Spider-Man? No worries! Here's a special box closet thing that you can keep all your private stuff in, no one will ever see, not even me.

Both of those provisions, about leaving anytime and having a private box to store stuff in, were specifically mentioned in that first issue where Peter got the job. It's like the whole scenario was specifically designed to be Parker-proof. Not even Peter's self destructive habits could get him fired from this job, now he HAS to be well off for his work! No more money complaints from this guy! Even on the occasion when Peter acts suspiciously, even when Modell does go into that box and sees all the incriminating Spider stuff, there's nary a thought of "He's Spider-Man!"

To contrast, back in the day ol' Harry Osborn can find a pair of Spidey pajamas in his roommates drawers and KNOW that this is Spider-Man.

Obviously, Slott is bending over backwards to remove that sort of drama from the Spider books. And refocusing on adventures isn't a mistake at all... but to arbitrarily skip over the drama when his own writing created that drama is a mistake.

This is all separate from the oddity of how Peter has suddenly become, not just a brilliant chemist/physicist but a classic "omnidisciplinary scientist" that can build whatever mad creations you want, ala Reed Richards, which, you know, is Reed Richards thing. I personally find it very out of place in a Spider-Man book, but whatever.

After getting Peter Parker the job of his dreams that not even his being Spider-Man can ruin for him and get him kicked out of, Marla Jameson gets killed. She dies, and it effects Spider-Man to such a degree that ever since he's been quite emphatic about having no one else die when he's around. This displays a surprising lack of maturity about ones own limitations, but in itself is something Spider-Man could believably say, I suppose (I mean, if he didn't say it when Gwen Stacy died, it's not something he's going to say ever, but fine, for the sake of argument let's leave it). This desire to be a Spider-Man that never fails, a "Superior Spider-Man" if you will (oh, no! I'm starting to pull things together!), takes the odd turn of having him invent a series of super suits to aid in his war on crime or whatever.

These suits, a couple of neon Tron looking numbers, and an armoured one, haven't reappeared after their initial use despite their effectiveness. Why is that? Because of their negative side effects in regards to creating drama in the story. It's the same reason why Superman gets depowered a bit every ten years (an act which misses the point about Superman and the source of that characters drama, but that's another topic), so that the enemies can remain a substantial threat. That Slott didn't consider this when he let the genii out of the bottle is yet another example of short sightedness. Of course I apologize if it was mandated from on high that they wanted some action figure designs. Wait, that would only work if I had seen any action figures based on these designs, so I retract my possibility of retraction.

Furthering his aims towards creating a "Superior Spider-Man" was the story arc leading up to Spider-Island, where Spider-Man loses his spider sense and ends up training with Shang Chi to create "Spider-Fu". And yes, I am embarrassed to have typed "spider" so often in that last sentence. The problem as percieved by Slott was that Spidey relies too much on his spider sense. Slott's solution was to remove that spider sense as an excuse for training, making Spider-Man that much more effective when he got his spider sense back. Instead of capitalizing on the dramatic potential of taking away what is arguably Spider-Man's greatest ability (to be fair, the story arc leading up to the loss, and the first issue where he operates without it, were fantastic), Slott goes for a power up.

Not just a power up, but a power up suited to a boyish power fantasy. Spider-Man needs to be better? Kung fu. Obviously that's the answer. This is why the Spider Island story was so disappointing. The premise was beautiful: everyone in New York has Spider-Man's powers (plus webbing for some reason), so when you factor things out, Peter Parker has no more power, and therefore no more responsibility than anyone else. Even better, Peter didn't have his spider sense, so he's actually at an enormous disadvantage! I would have greatly enjoyed seeing Peter having to use his intelligence to solve the problem of the day, while constantly navigating the treacherous world that has erupted around him.

Instead, he has spider-fu, and is able to beat up everyone there. That is of course why people like Spider-Man: because he beats people up. Yes, I've heard that many a time.

All of which brings us to Amazing Spider-Man #700, wherein Doctor Octopus is in the body of Spider-Man and vice versa. Hardly the first time that a body swap has occurred between hero and villain, one could argue that the same trick was given us when the Chameleon had our hero chained up under a pot of acid or somesuch and went about AS Peter Parker. If memory serves, the Chameleon got away with that particular impersonation job, which is funny, because what usually happens with these stories is some other character sees through the charade and calls the villain out on it.

This time Slott is reacting to criticisms of his own story (I'm pretty sure it was Slott that wrote that bit with the Chameleon...): how do I keep the supporting cast members that know the main character so well, who live in a universe where body swaps happen and are therefore credulous enough to be on the lookout for them? Easy! I'll just give my body swapped characters all the memories of the other person.

Once more, Slott is trading away dramatic potential (Doc Ock in Spider-Man's body must now keep on his toes to avoid alerting Peter Parker's closest friends to the switch up, to say nothing of the Avengers or the Fantastic Four) for the sake of removing a problem that... wasn't a problem. I'm sure I've never lost sleep at night over the Chameleon's inability to know my innermost thoughts when he's stealing my life.

So Slott didn't want to do a straight body swap, he wanted to figurativlely sew Doc Ock's head onto Spider-Man's shoulder, complicatedly mish-mashing the characters together. All well and good, except for the infuriating part where he insists he's telling a body swap story. Doc Ock's body dies with all of Peter's and Ock's memories inside of it, but Peter's body lives with all of Peter's and Ock's memories inside of it. And yet we are told this is a body swap story, and that it is sad when "Peter" dies. I like how Octopus gloats about having all Peter's memories, and Peter has "all" of Ock's... excepting the part about how the mind copy-pasting was done. We'll just skim over that little problem, shall we?

This is actually a CLASSIC Marvel philosophical problem- what makes a person a person? Having the memories of a lifetime isn't apparently enough, since both Peter Parker and Ben Reilly get really messed up by the prospect of being a clone. Yes, the problem of feeling a kinship with friends and relatives who have never actually met you and already have "you" in their life is a juicy one... so why these comics feel the need to dwell on whether or not they deserve life or have a soul or not is sure confusing. Anyways.

Even though I greatly disagree with the assertion that what has happened in the story is a body swap, everything else that we're told by the writer, by the characters, everything we're directed to feel by the story is such that we are supposed to take this as a body swap. It's just like when you were little and playing action figures with some other kid, and you'd smash them together and the other kid would always declare himself the winner, despite the lack of reason behind that call. I win because. This is a body swap and now it's Ock Spider-Man because.

I say again, infuriating.

The actual flow of the main #700 story was quite well done up to the point where Peter-in-Ock's-body attempted to switch back with the little gold octobot. The action kept rising, both sides constantly countering the other in a "I know you know I know" sort of fashion. Despite the grittiness of it, the act of having Ock-in-Peter's-body punch off the Scorpion's jaw excellently illustrates why we root for Peter Parker, that we're on the side that controls that kind of power.

(It also, by the way, acts as the counter-argument to the need for a "Superior Spider-Man"- Spider-Man is already privy to such power that the act of improving him from a physicality standpoint is pointless. It also renders Doctor Octopus's condition as much less sympathetic. Before, it was framed such that the mean old Spider-Man had caused Octopus's state of being through the repeated body blows, but this points out Octopus was lucky to get out of even their first encounter with his head intact. To repeatedly antagonize Spider-Man becomes an act of stupidity on the Doctor's part.)

The turn around came, ignoring JJJ's slobbering over the Ock Spidey (this despite actively seeing Spider-Man be a menace with that jaw punching thing... sloppy characterization), when the gold octobot failed to switch back the "body swap".

From then on, it's all gobbledygook in the vein of Spider-Island. There's somehow a constant link, or something, between each characters minds (a fact that conveniently hadn't been brought up until now) and so Peter forces Octopus to REALLY relive some memories, thereby getting Octopus to see the error of his ways, and promising to be a good-ish Spider-Man. A Superior Spider-Man! One that will never fall for brain switching doodads! Then Peter-in-Ock's-body dies.

If we must take this story as a body swap, that it is indeed sad that Peter dies, then this story breaks the rules of good triumphing over evil. If this can happen, then when Thanos kills half the worlds population, there's no reason to think they'll be brought back to life by stories end. It's if the hero's journey, instead of a boy leaving his village for adventure and returning a conquering hero, it's the boy leaving and dying somewhere outside the village. No one really knows where, we never heard from him again, and we assume the worst.

If this wasn't really any kind of a body swap, like I've been talking about this whole time, that Peter Parker isn't really dead, then #700 is a story told under false pretenses that doesn't deserve any attention, and we've gone through all these hoops to try and mentally agree with this "body swap" idea for no reason.

The letters page has tributes to the character Spider-Man from various industry professionals. Some give touching accounts about, ultimately, the power of fiction to effect one's life, re-directing it's course forever, and then you have some joke tributes that cheapen the whole exercise.

The final letter in the book, from Kevin Tu, 13 years old, from Pennsylvania, tells us how these comics bridge time together. He's talking about the time Peter took a job at Tricorp, and how he ended up fired because he couldn't be reliable enough for the hours (thanks, Spider-Man!), and was hoping something similar didn't happen to Peter at Horizon labs. This is amazing to me. This kid was barely even alive when I was reading that Tricorp stuff, but look at him now, he's blazed through all the Amazing comics and is referencing Tricorp, the Clone Saga, other stuff that I've just now forgotten what he said... this is the power of a character like Peter Parker, a timelessness that lets people enjoy him in 1962, 1992, and 2012. One might even say that writing this character is a great responsibility.

Slott has dropped the ball on that responsiblity, aiming for a memorable run instead of maintaining the stewardship of the character. I've bought issues of Amazing Spider-Man since I was ten (I know, I'm surprised I was that old too, but I just checked the dates) and now, even if I wanted to, I can't anymore. What are the ten year olds of today to do?