Longbox Legerdemain: Hulk vs. Spider-Man
By Matthew Sunrich
During the early 1960s, when it
was a tiny, struggling publisher, Marvel took strides to distinguish itself
from DC.
While DC had a "clean"
(and, frankly, bland) house style, Marvel took a different approach, opting for
more dynamic character designs—often at the expense of accurate anatomy—and more
daring action sequences. The higher-ups at DC found Marvel's comics to be crude
and amateurish, never envisioning them as threat to their #1 position in the
industry.
It's certainly true that DC,
unlike most other comic companies, had successfully weathered the tempestuous "interregnum"
period of the 1950s and had even been responsible for the resurrection of the
superhero (via Barry Allen as the new Flash in Showcase #4, 1956), but it wasn't until Marvel introduced a new
generation of superheroes (The Fantastic Four, Spider-Man, the Hulk, Iron Man,
Thor, Daredevil, et al.) that the Silver Age was shifted into high gear.
Outside of stylistic differences,
Marvel's books differed from DC's in another major way: the heroes were flawed.
Readers never saw Superman exercise poor judgment, and he certainly never
engaged in heated disagreements with the other members of the Justice League.
The "good guys" at DC never approached anything resembling moral
ambiguity, never had to deal with the everyday struggles that real people faced,
and the stories always resolved themselves neatly.
Not so in the pages of Marvel's
comics.
From the very beginning, Marvel's
characters bickered—even came to blows—with each other, tried to use their
powers for their own selfish purposes, allowed their egos to get the best of
them, even lamented the "gifts" they had been given. At the time,
this was revolutionary. Also, some of the heroes, such as the Hulk and the Thing,
were monsters. Both Bruce Banner and Ben Grimm desired to cure themselves;
Banner's circumstances were worsened by the fact that his mind was lost within
the id-like rage of the Hulk whenever he transformed, whereas Grimm's rocky
form, while permanent, did not affect his brain.
With all of this taken into
account, one of Marvel's biggest points of interest soon became superheroes in
conflict with each other. The cover of Amazing
Spider-Man #1 depicts Spidey battling the Fantastic Four. Daredevil fights
Spidey and Captain America on the covers of #s 16 and 43, respectively, of his
own comic. The Hulk battles the Thing—for the first of many times—on the cover
of Fantastic Four #25. These are just
a few examples; this sort of thing happened all the time, and the fans loved
it.
The closest equivalent I can
think of at DC was that time Superman raced the Flash.
To tell this story, powerhouse
artists John Romita and Gil Kane had to work together. Romita handled #119 by
himself; Kane penciled #120, with Romita doing the inks. It's interesting to
see the stylistic hallmarks of each artist throughout the story, and the
mixture of the two in #120 is better than the sum of its parts, as the saying
goes.
By this time, Stan Lee had
relinquished the book to Gerry Conway. As the years had passed and Lee had
taken on more administrative responsibilities, he had slowly surrendered his
books to various writers (remember that at the beginning Lee was writing
everything). Amazing Spider-Man was
reportedly his favorite and therefore the last to be given up. Conway tried to
retain the spirit of Lee's writing while forging ahead with new ideas, some of
which were disastrous, most notably the startling events in the very next
issue, but that's another story.
Not unlike the storyline in which
Wolverine was first introduced, this battle between the Hulk and Spidey takes
place in Canada. Peter Parker needs to go to Montreal to investigate the origin
of a mysterious telegram received by his Aunt May. Finding himself short on
funds (as usual), he is thrilled to catch a glimpse of a televised news report
about the Hulk's wreaking havoc up there. He convinces Jameson to pay his way
to our northern neighbor to snap some photos of the monster.
Thaddeus "Thunderbolt"
Ross (the Hulk's arch-enemy, for those of you who might not know) and his
forces are already there, intent on capturing him. Parker's name isn't on the
list of approved members of the press, but he sneaks onto the truck anyway.
Naturally, the vehicle is attacked by the Hulk, who just wants everyone to quit
hounding him. Parker finds a spot to change into his costume and engages the
Hulk in his typically jocular fashion. Catching the Jade Giant off balance,
Spidey knocks him off a snow-capped precipice, but the monster soon forgets his
assailant as the army begins firing on him.
The Hulk rips up a parcel of land
(they don't call him "incredible" for nothing) and hurls it at the
soldiers, but Spidey snags it in his webbing and sends it right back at the
monster. He shatters it with a powerful fist but then chooses to flee, having
become fed up with the whole affair.
A short distance away, the Hulk
takes out his anger on a dam. Realizing that this could result in the flooding
of the nearby village, Spidey attempts to find the pressure wheel so he can
lower the water level. The Hulk spots him and attempts to smash him with an
I-beam that he has torn free, but Spidey succeeds in reaching the wheel and
averts the disaster. Still a ten-foot-tall engine of rage, the Hulk batters the
dam until it collapses, and both he and the web-slinger plunge into the river.
Spidey narrowly escapes as the
Hulk's mad underwater thrashing causes a tidal wave that effectively brings the
army's efforts to a standstill. As the Jade Giant's powerful leap breaks the
surface and he disappears into the countryside, Ross calls for a helicopter to
take him back to Montreal, ordering his troops to follow the monster. Satisfied
that he has enough photos, Spidey hitches a ride back to the city, intent on
rendezvousing with the man who sent the aforementioned telegram and then
returning to New York.
Back in his civilian attire,
Parker climbs into a cab and heads toward his meeting. No sooner does the cab
reach the bridge leading to the fairgrounds where Parker's contact waits for
him than the Hulk, unnerved by the car's headlights, attacks. Thrown from the
vehicle, Parker dons his costume again and lures the monster onto a cable car,
which he, of course, destroys, and then onto the fairgrounds proper, where he
wrecks a geodesic dome and tears a stone column from an exhibit as he tries to crush
Spidey.
The Hulk finally manages to snag
the web-slinger's arm and hurls him into a pile of rubble. Dazed, Spidey knows
that his number may be up, but just then Ross and his forces appear. The Hulk,
however, has had enough, and leaps away.
Perhaps the most interesting
aspect of the battles between the Hulk and Spider-Man is that the web-head
knows better than to engage directly in combat with the monster. He is fully
aware that he is far outclassed in physical strength, so he uses his reflexes
and his environment and taunts his foe instead, things that prove very
effective.
In the context of this story,
Spidey struggles with the idea of performing heroic deeds (i.e., stopping the
Hulk) for their own sake when he has personal matters that demand his
attention. He ultimately decides that if he is ever to become a successful
superhero he has no choice but to put his own concerns aside, at least
momentarily, for society at large. This is something that all heroes, super or
not, have to deal with, and the fact that Spidey is an everyman character makes
the issue relatable, even encouraging, to readers.
Labels: comics, Longbox, Longbox Legerdemain, Matt Sunrich, reviews
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