That revenge occurs at the end of issue #121. Goblin, his knowledge of Spidey’s secret identity restored with the rest of his memory, throws Gwen Stacy off the George Washington Bridge (well, penciler Gil Kane drew the Brooklyn Bridge, but the dialogue identifies it as George Washington). In desperation, Spidey shoots a web to catch her, and manages to grab her ankle. But the inertia from the fall is too much, and Gwen’s neck breaks. Issue #122, “The Goblin’s Last Stand” traces the fall-out, in which Spider-Man seeks his own revenge, eventually battling Green Goblin to the death—a death that comes when our hero leaps out of the way of the Goblin Glider and lets it slam into his foe.
These scenes have been recreated time and again, in homages and films and television shows, so much that we might lose sight of the brilliance of the storytelling. From his conception, Spider-Man has been the hero overburdened by great responsibility. Even if some of co-creator Steve Ditko‘s objectivist philosophy turned Peter into an ungenerous possessor of great power, Spider-Man has always felt like his abilities complicated his life instead of turning him into a conquering hero.
From Silver to Bronze to Today
Such inner-conflicts are the calling card of the Marvel Heroes. When Stan Lee combined the melodramatic dialogue he developed while writing teen romance comics with the mythic monsters that Jack Kirby created throughout the 1950s, something special happened. Against the paragons of DC Comics, the Thing, Hulk, and Iron Man were heroes with feet of clay, people for whom having power was not all fantasy.
“The Night Gwen Stacy Died” and “The Goblin’s Last Stand” took it one step further. The story does indeed show how having superpowers has complicated Peter’s personal life, estranging him from best pal Harry even before Gwen’s death. However, the story goes on to suggest that Peter is misusing his power. After all, it’s ultimately him, not the Green Goblin, who kills Gwen. And it is not him who kills the Goblin, who died by his own hand. Moreover, Peter very nearly beats Goblin to death, coming so close to crossing a line that he cannot help but pause and check himself.
By the end of these two issues, Conway and his co-creators have pushed Spider-Man to the brink and stripped away part of his life. It would not be the last time. Throughout the 1990s, Spider-Man, like all of his fellow superheroes, would get grim and gritty. Spidey would be buried alive in “Kraven’s Last Hunt,” turned into an animal-like being in “Torment,” and lose his identity in the Clone Saga, all while dealing with nasty mirror images such as Venom and Carnage. Instead of the bright-colored explorers in the Fantastic Four or the shining Avengers, Spider-Man would rub shoulders with the likes of the Punisher, Wolverine, and Ghost Rider, angry anti-heroes who represented the darker side of superheroism.
To be sure, the deconstructions of the 1980s supercharged this change in tone. There would be no Authority, Ultimates, or Identity Crisis without Watchmen or The Dark Knight Returns. But there would be no Watchmen or The Dark Knight Returns without “The Night Gwen Stacy Died.”
