Another day, another ret-con.
Brain Bendis’ revamp of Spider-Woman’s origin wrapped up last week, and your retro-conservative Fortress Keeper is … strangely OK with the whole deal.
Unlike - to pick a purely “random” example - the Kree-Skrull War, Jessica Drew’s heroic career is hardly a cornerstone of the Marvel universe. If the company’s golden boy wants to turn her into Sydney Bristow, more power to him.
(At least she’s not dead or depowered - again.)
Besides, it gives your backward-looking host an opportunity to review one his favorite - and most obscure - creative runs from the Bronze Age: the Mark Gruenwald/Carmine Infantino helmed issues (#9- #19) of Spider-Woman.
Neither were especially hot names at the time. Gruenwald had yet to write his (justly) acclaimed Squadron Supreme mini-series, and Infantino was arguably on the downside of a legendary career that included a definitive run on the Silver-Age Flash and a stint as DC Comic’s publisher.
Expanding upon a foundation built by departing writer Marv Wolfman, the two brought a creepy, noir-ish vibe to the book that briefly transformed Jessica Drew into a night stalker more at home in Gotham City than Marvel’s Big Apple.
(Take that, Moon Knight!)
After a pair of Wolfman stories that owed no small debt to Will Eisner, the new creative team hit the ground running in Spider-Woman #9 with the introduction of the first in a string of bizarre villains - The Needle.
A nameless tailor who was mercifully beaten by a band of thugs, the Needle embarked upon a vengeful crusade to sew young men’s mouths shut. (That’ll show ‘em …)
The story opens with Spider-Woman flying off in a huff as her boyfriend, SHIELD agent Jerry Hunt, wonders why the heroine doesn’t simply disregard her fantastic abilities and settle down to a life of domestic tranquility.
(The guy probably shared a few beers with Steve Trevor from time to time.)
Hunt’s chauvinistic brooding (”Just when you think you a know a woman…”) is interrupted by a nearby scream, leading him to your traditional comic-book dark alley and the eerie Needle. Drawing his gun, Hunt promptly finds himself paralyzed by the villain’s hypnotic glare.
As to what happens next, well, let’s just say The Needle effortlessly sews the case up.
The next day, naturally, Hunt pitches a fit over Jessica desire to investigate the crime. Since the story takes place in the liberated ’70s, she walks out of the room with confidence and states “this lady can take care of herself.”
In accordance with the rules of comics, Spider-Woman does not capture The Needle in her first attempt. Instead, she finds another man with his mouth tied shut - giving Infantino the opportunity to draw an appropriately grisly scene.
For the denouement, Hunt accompanies Spider-Woman to the scene of the crime. Ever the gallant sort, the SHIELD agent calls Jessica a “twit” for expressing concern about his safety and swears to bring The Needle to justice.
Seconds later, he is once again under the villain’s control and about to have his mouth sewn shut.
Loser.
Fortunately for Hunt - if not the reader - the so-called “twit” swoops in and saves the day.
As our story ends, The Needle is under lock and key, Hunt is kicking himself for being such a dumbass and Jessica’s wondering why the big lunk isn’t treating her to dinner.
Back in the day, Spider-Woman #9 blew the 16-year-old Fortress Keeper’s mind. The Needle was truly an odd character, and Infantino’s rendition of Jessica Drew was both alluring and menacing.
It was like no other Marvel comic of the time, and minus the heroine’s identity issues (”Am I spider, or am I woman?”) could have taken place in the DC Universe (which always had a bit more atmosphere, in this reader’s opinion).
Today, the story is less revolutionary but still good Bronze-Age fun. It also shows a company willing to take the road less traveled for spin-off characters. Jessica Drew was no Peter Parker clone, a fact that undoubtedly attracted a young Brian Bendis looking for four-color thrills.
Coming up: Spider-Woman vs. Gypsy Moth!
