In the quarter-century since September 11, 2001, the terrorist attacks that occurred on that day have become many things. A world-changing cataclysm. An excuse for illegal wars and horrific crimes. A political slogan. But in the moment that they happened, they were simply a national tragedy worse than what most Americans had experienced before.
The attacks influenced superhero comics in many ways, though in the immediate aftermath–before anyone had a chance to process what happened fully–J. Michael Straczynski and John Romita Jr. gave us Amazing Spider-Man #36.
The previous issue ended on a cliffhanger, with an exhausted Peter Parker collapsing into bed and sleeping straight through the moment Aunt May walks in and finds his shredded costume on the floor. So it must have been jarring when readers returned the next month and flipped past the unforgettable all-black cover to an equally black first page with the words, “We interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you the following Special Bulletin.” These words are not just a reference to 9/11 news coverage. They are a signal that what follows will have nothing to do with the main storyline.
The rest of the issue is a series of scenes at and around the Towers. Spider-Man and other major Marvel heroes are seen clearing away the debris and helping civilians. All the while, Spider-Man’s narration reveals his inner turmoil as he desperately tries to wrap his head around what has happened and why. He’s trying to figure out how we can move forward after something like this.
As you might expect from a story pulled together in the wake of a sudden, shocking event, not everything about it holds up today. The most infamous scene is probably the one where several notable villains show up to lend a hand. Among them is Doctor Doom, who sheds tears for the victims. It’s a ridiculous notion, as the only civilians Doom has ever remotely cared about are Latverians and Valeria Richards, and if anything happened to them, he’d be too busy plotting vengeance to cry. Yet, it’s a scene in keeping with the sense of togetherness that many Americans, and New Yorkers in particular, remember feeling at the time. If you’ve seen the Sam Raimi Spider-Man movies, you are familiar with this idea.
That said, this issue rises above such moments with its…well, nothing about it is really subtle, but there are more thoughtful panels, such as one featuring a fire truck decorated with flowers. It avoids sinking to the lows we would see in other comics: it condemns the Islamic extremists who committed and condoned the attacks, but it also condemns the Christian extremists who suggested America had been justly punished for its secularism. It cites love, mercy, and kindness as strengths, not weaknesses. This is a low bar, I’m aware, but given how many people failed even to try to clear it (cough Frank Miller cough), it’s worth pointing out nevertheless.
The comic is also visually arresting. Insofar as destruction can be made to look beautiful, Romita manages it, delivering some truly breathtaking images of the wreckage and of the city.
This issue also sidesteps the pitfalls Marvel fell prey to in an earlier attempt at a similar story. In 1975, not long after the fall of Saigon, we got Iron Man #78, which might as well be titled “Bill Mantlo and George Tuska Vent About the Vietnam War.” It follows Iron Man as he is forced to confront the extent and pointlessness of the damage his weapons have inflicted.
This issue is similar to Amazing Spider-Man #36 in several ways. Its title character is uniquely connected to the setting, making him the perfect conduit for the creators to express what they and many others were feeling. Though the passage of time has rendered both comics overwrought, they’re both cries of pain, outrage, and confusion tied to a very specific event rather than stories intended to withstand retrospective critical analysis.
The essential difference is that Iron Man #78 feels self-centered, focused almost exclusively on Tony’s perspective, his guilt, and his traumatized reactions. Maybe this is justified. Spider-Man didn’t do 9/11, while Tony Stark is responsible for many in-universe deaths in Vietnam. But it ends up taking away from the countless real people who suffered and died because of American aggression.
Amazing Spider-Man #36 is smart enough to put much of its focus on the “ordinary men and ordinary women” who were there on 9/11: the rescue workers, the passengers on United 93, the civilians in and around the Towers before and after they collapsed. Both the visuals and Peter’s omnipresent narration emphasize the vital role these people have played and must continue to play in the aftermath of the attacks.
I won’t pretend this solves all of the issue’s shortcomings, but I also won’t deny that this issue made me cry. That may partly be because I’m old enough to remember sitting in front of the TV all day, watching the Towers burn over and over. It also makes me sad to think how differently things could have unfolded after that day if we had heeded this issue’s warning to “do not do as they do, or the war is lost before it is even begun.” Maybe I’d be a little more cynical about this issue without these perspectives. At the same time, credit must go to Straczynski and Romita for their affecting storytelling. I certainly didn’t cry over Iron Man #78.
Whether you choose to (re)read Amazing Spider-Man #36 as an act of remembrance or out of simple curiosity, there is still much to appreciate and learn from this historic issue.