By Travis Trombley
“We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you the following Special Bulletin.”
So starts J Michael Straczynski's and John Romita Jr.’s special “black” issue of The Amazing Spider-Man Vol 2, # 36, mimicking the words spoken before so many learned of the attack on New York in 2001 via news broadcast, but also signifying the following narrative’s nature as a stand-alone element set apart from the ongoing canon.
And set apart it is.
This isn’t as much a Spider-Man issue as it is Straczynski addressing the events of September 11, 2001 by way of comic book poetry. Spider-Man is but a vehicle for a visual tour of ground zero and subsequent fallout, his thoughtful narration more like a journal entry or open letter.
While superheroes and their readers alike have been dealing with the ramifications of 9/11 for 15 years now (exploring authoritarianism responses to threat, the freedom vs security dichotomy, and the concept of vulnerability), this narration is an immediate response to that day and the events directly following. Part tribute and part commentary, Straczynski’s use of the genre in this special issue highlights some key roles superheroes play in our culture, especially concerning our definitions of valor, our conceptions of moral direction, and our ability to make meaning of tragedy.
As Spider-Man lands at ground zero, a fleeing couple yells to him, “Where were you?! How could you let this happen?” It’s the question usually posed to God in rage, but in this universe, it’s the superhero - the humanistic savior - who must answer for tragedy. Already the genre’s effect is apparent.
So starts J Michael Straczynski's and John Romita Jr.’s special “black” issue of The Amazing Spider-Man Vol 2, # 36, mimicking the words spoken before so many learned of the attack on New York in 2001 via news broadcast, but also signifying the following narrative’s nature as a stand-alone element set apart from the ongoing canon.
And set apart it is.
This isn’t as much a Spider-Man issue as it is Straczynski addressing the events of September 11, 2001 by way of comic book poetry. Spider-Man is but a vehicle for a visual tour of ground zero and subsequent fallout, his thoughtful narration more like a journal entry or open letter.
While superheroes and their readers alike have been dealing with the ramifications of 9/11 for 15 years now (exploring authoritarianism responses to threat, the freedom vs security dichotomy, and the concept of vulnerability), this narration is an immediate response to that day and the events directly following. Part tribute and part commentary, Straczynski’s use of the genre in this special issue highlights some key roles superheroes play in our culture, especially concerning our definitions of valor, our conceptions of moral direction, and our ability to make meaning of tragedy.
As Spider-Man lands at ground zero, a fleeing couple yells to him, “Where were you?! How could you let this happen?” It’s the question usually posed to God in rage, but in this universe, it’s the superhero - the humanistic savior - who must answer for tragedy. Already the genre’s effect is apparent.