It helps to remember, now that a third Spider-Man epic has arrived to herald the school’s-out season at the box office, that the title character had started out as the comic-book industry’s least likely recruit to the ranks of super-heroism.

The idea of a human being with the proportionate strength of a spider had been kicking around since the 1950s. Comic-book pioneers Joe Simon and Jack Kirby seem to have arrived there first, with an undeveloped concept known as the Silver Spider. The inspiration ran afoul of a publishers’ bias against spiders and other such crawly creatures, the bankable success of Batman notwithstanding. But Simon and Kirby steered the basic notion into print in 1959 with a change-of-species Archie Comics series called The Fly – capitalizing upon an unrelated but like-titled hit movie of 1958.

By the early 1960s, Kirby was slumming at a low-rent publishing company that was soon to become the influential Marvel Comics. Kirby and writer Stan Lee had recently found competitive leverage with a band-of-heroes comic called The Fantastic Four – grimmer and edgier than the fare offered by big-time DC Comics. DC’s Superman and Batman franchises anchored a line of costumed heroes who got along well enough to have formed a super-heroes’ club.

Lee and Kirby’s retort to DC Comics’ Justice League magazine had been a Fantastic Four whose members quarreled and exchanged threats and insults. After Kirby had raised the Silver Spider as a prospect, Lee and Steve Ditko envisioned Spider-Man as a teen-age nebbish, afflicted with superhuman abilities by a bite from a radioactive spider. Artists Kirby and Ditko combined qualities of strength and neurosis in the character design: Superman’s alter-ego, Clark Kent, wore eyeglasses and feigned social withdrawal as a disguise; Spider-Man’s alter-ego, Peter Parker, wore eyeglasses because he was a nearsighted dweeb.

The embryonic Marvel Comics, having little to lose and plenty to prove, launched Spider-Man in a failing magazine and hoped that somebody might notice. Sales figures spiked against expectations. Lee’s unsophisticated attempts at philosophical depth struck comic-book readers of the day as comparatively profound. Spider-Man’s début in his own title involved a violent misunderstanding with the members of the Fantastic Four.

Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man movies date from times more recent (2002-and-counting), but they recapture well that early stage of 45 years ago in which Peter B. Parker, alias Spider-Man, marks time between altercations by wondering whether he deserves to be saddled with such responsibility. Raimi’s Spider-Man 2 (2004) is generally regarded as one of the more mature-minded comic-book films, reconciling sensationalism with provocative ideas.

Editor’s Note: SPOILERS after the jump… (more…)

Free Comic Book Day started with a bang at Jim Hanley’s Universe in New York City last night – or was it a howl?  Robert Kirkman (Invincible, Marvel Zombies, The Walking Dead) was on hand to launch his new book The Astounding Wolf-Man.  The signing is the first of a series of five appearances across the country this weekend to promote the new book.  “If giving the book away for free doesn’t work, I don’t know what will,” said Kirkman.

Kirkman described his new book as “An action-packed superhero romp.” The crowd that packed the aisles of Jim Hanley’s Universe were certainly eager to pick up the premier issue.  Now that he has a book on zombies and a book on werewolves Kirkman said, “I think I’d like to do mummies.”

With comic book properties especially hot right now Invincible has been optioned by Paramount.  “I’m working on a draft of the screenplay right now.  There’s no casting yet.  No director either,” said Kirkman.  For those with more of a zombie jones Kirkman said, ”There’s interest in a The Walking Dead movie.  My agent is listening to offers all the time.  We’re waiting for the right one to come along.”

We asked him why he thought zombies were so hot these days.  “People like zombie comics when they’re afraid.  The last surge in popularity of zombie comics was at the height of the Cold War.  Now the war on terror has the same atmosphere.  The media is full of fear,” said Kirkman.

As for what’s next, “The Walking Dead and Invincible are both going strong towards issue 50, that’s pretty exciting.  Marvel Zombies 2 is also about to get going,” said Kirkman.

This is the week that DC’s 52 came to a close. The company’s first attempt at a weekly comic since Action Comics Weekly more than 15 years ago, unless you count Mike Carlin’s interconnecting but freestanding Superman series. It was, by most accounts, a commercial and critical success. 52 re-defined what comics can do, as narrative and as pop culture events.

When I was a kid, a comic event was a much smaller achievement. I started reading comics when I was five (for those of you keeping track at home, that was 1958). My parents would go to the train station on Sunday mornings to pick up the just-delivered New York Times, and I’d get to buy a comic. One comic. Because it had to last all week, I wanted the one with the most story. Eventually, after lots of trial and error, I decided that DC was the best for me.

It’s not that I didn’t sample Marvel. I did. But the book I tried had a story that was continued next month. When I looked for the next issue thirty pulse-pounding days later, it wasn’t there. Newsstand distribution was like that. I was happier getting a DC book, with two – sometimes even three – complete stories in each issue.

(Kids today, they have it easy. They can buy multi-part stories in trade paperback collections. In my day, we had to walk to the convenience store, picking up deposit bottles so we could afford to buy comics that might not even make it to the racks. In the snow! With no shoes!)

This is not to say we didn’t enjoy events. I remember in 1961, when there was a “novel-length” (that meant it took up a whole issue) story, “The Death of Superman,” that made me cry when Krypto said goodbye. There were Wonder Woman stories where she used a Paradise Island computer to imagine what it would be like to have adventures with herself as a baby (Wonder Tot) and a teenager (Wonder Girl). Basically, just being allowed to get a comic was enough of an event.

In those days it was assumed that most kids would read comics for a couple of years in grade school, then discover the opposite sex and go one to other amusements. There was no reason to worry about continuity, because no one expected the readers to stick around long enough to notice. (more…)