Amazing Spider-Man #101 (October, 1971)

As we’ve discussed in previous posts on this blog, the year 1971 brought the first significant revisions to the American comic book industry’s self-regulating mechanism, the Comics Code Authority, since its establishment in 1954.  Among the most important changes made to the Code in that year was the relaxing of restrictions on the depiction of certain sorts of imaginary creatures; or, as a newly added statement read: “Vampires, ghouls and werewolves shall be permitted to be used when handled in the classic tradition such as Frankenstein, Dracula, and other high calibre literary works…” 

Considering that statement’s emphasis on “high calibre literary works”, it’s thus a bit surprising that the earliest Code-approved vampires produced by both Marvel Comics and their rival DC had relatively little to do with the familiar undead bloodsuckers of “the classic tradition”.  DC’s first foray — published on Feb. 2, 1971, exactly one day after the Code’s new provisions officially went into effect — was, arguably, not a vampire at all.  Jack Kirby’s Mantis was, rather, an alien being who could absorb and store energy and release it as concentrated blasts of power.  He also had a “thermal touch”, with which he could generate and conduct extreme conditions of heat and cold.  Not all that vampiric at all, if you ask me — and, indeed, within the interior pages of Forever People #2 (Jun., 1971), Mantis was never referred to by the “v” word.  Nevertheless, DC did opt to label him “an evil power vampire” on the comic’s cover.  Perhaps this was a last-minute afterthought, inspired by the recent changes in the Code — a quick and easy “test case”, if you will — and perhaps not.  But whatever the actual backstory, DC proved that you could now use the word “vampire” in a Code-approved comic book, and get away with it.

Marvel’s first vampire, on the other hand, didn’t come along a few months later.  As Roy Thomas (an associate editor at the company at the time, as well as the writer of multiple titles) recalled in 2000 for Alter Ego #4:  “[Artist] Gil [Kane] and I talked it over and were going to bring Dracula into the Marvel Universe via the Spider-Man book… but [editor] Stan [Lee] said no; he wanted a new, more super-villainous creation for Spidey to fight. So Gil and I came up with Morbius, the Living Vampire, a science-fictional vampire.”

The “science-fictional” aspects of the Morbius character go largely unexplored in his debut appearance (though his red and blue-black spandex outfit clearly sets him apart from the run of “traditional” popular culture vampires), and we’ll defer a thorough discussion of them until next month’s post on Amazing Spider-Man #102, where his origin will be detailed.  For now, however, just be advised that when Thomas, or Marvel at large, refer to him as “the Living Vampire”, they mean it.

But along with introducing Marvel’s first vampire of any kind (or at least the first to be called such), Thomas and Kane had another hefty storytelling task facing them in AS-M #101 — namely, dealing with the shocking plot twist with which Kane and writer Stan Lee had ended the previous month’s commemorative 100th issue.  I suspect that all of you out there reading this remember just what that was; but just in case you need a memory jog, a peek at #101’s opening splash page should do the trick:

Yes, Lee (with Kane) had given your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man an extra four arms right before going on sabbatical.  And Thomas (with Kane) was going to have to come up with what happened next.

Lee’s sabbatical was actually a pretty big deal — not only was he taking off from writing Spider-Man for the first time since he and Steve Ditko co-created the character in 1962, but he was taking off from all his other scripting duties at Marvel, as well.  For more details, we’ll follow the advice given at the bottom of the credits box, above, and check out the Bullpen Bulletins page that ran in all of Marvel’s books that month, starting with “Stan’s Soapbox”… wait, no, that’s not quite right…

“Roy” is Roy Thomas, of course, here wearing his associate editor’s hat — and the first “ITEM!” that follows (also written by Thomas, though in the third person, as he himself notes above) offers more details:

Taken together, “Roy’s Rostrum” and this first Bulletin item offer some fascinating insights into what was going on at Marvel at this time — mostly because a number of the details turned out to be wrong.  Stan Lee’s “couple of weeks away from the typewriter end of a superhero script” to work on a screenplay called The Monster Maker for French auteur Alain Resnais (never produced, just in case you’re wondering) turned out to be four months.  And though he did complete the script for that month’s Thor (#192), said issue didn’t actually finish up the saga as Thomas indicated it would — rather, it was left to Gerry Conway to complete the storyline over the next two issues.  In fact, for all practical purposes, Lee’s long tenure as Thor‘s writer ended with #192, as he’d only return for the commemorative issue #200, and then would be gone for good.  Captain America, meanwhile, was already in Lee’s rearview mirror, and though he’d eventually resume scripting duties on both Amazing Spider-Man and Fantastic Four, neither return would last beyond the summer of 1972.  In that sense, Lee’s “couple of weeks away” represented the beginning of what would ultimately prove to be a long goodbye to his three-decades-long career as a regular scripter of periodical comics.

Somewhat less significantly, but still interesting, is Thomas’ assumption that he would be scripting Fantastic Four as well as Amazing Spider-Man in his boss’ absence; the former assignment actually went to Archie Goodwin (though Thomas did pick up the book following Lee’s final exit in 1972). Even more notable in the context of today’s post, however, is the disclosure that Marvel was expecting to go to press with the first issue of Tomb of Dracula in July, 1971 — indicating that even if Lee wasn’t quite yet ready to see Dracula fight Spider-Man, Marvel was nevertheless moving full-steam ahead on bringing a more traditional sort of vampire to the pages of its comics.  (For the record, that first issue would not actually see the light of day — or even the dark of night — until November.)

But, I digress.  We were talking about Amazing Spider-Man #101, if I recall correctly.  And about the fact that poor Peter Parker now has four forelimbs too many.  Let’s see what Thomas, Kane, and inker Frank Giacoia have in store next for our beleaguered wall-crawler, shall we?

“Why?  Got a guilty conscience?”  Dear God, Pete, how deep are you going to dig that hole?  You couldn’t just tell your girlfriend you came down with pneumonia or something?  Seriously, I’d have thought you’d have the “excuse” bit down by now.

After fielding another untimely phone call — this one from the Daily Bugle‘s Robbie Robertson and J. Jonah Jameson, offering him a photography gig (which our hero miraculously manages to turn down without telling his bosses to go jump in a lake, or worse) — Peter finally manages to come up with a plan of action:

Peter starts packing a suitcase, but soon realizes that there’s no way he can safely travel in his civilian identity (“…one stray breeze, flappin’ my coat open…”) — and so opts to catch the train out to Long Island as Spider-Man, taking nothing with him save the ripped costume on his back.  (Seems to me like he’d have at least wanted to web up a quick backpack in which he could throw a toothbrush and a change of underwear, but what do I know?)

But as he makes his way across town to the train station, Spidey runs into unexpected difficulties…

By the time he makes his last leap onto the back of a moving train, Spidey has managed to gain considerably greater muscle control over his new appendages.  (Good thing, too, because he’s going to need all six of his fists before the end of this issue.)

The story now leaves Spider-Man for a bit, turning its attention to a ship that’s anchored less than a mile off shore from our hero’s temporary new digs.  There, the crew is very much on edge, due to several hands going missing in recent days, and their captain dying mysteriously just the night before.  Convinced that their trouble must be due to the stranger they’d found adrift in the middle of the ocean right before all their troubles started, the crewmen decide to “drag ‘im topside — and beat the truth out of ‘im.”

According to comments Gil Kane once made in an interview, he based the look of Morbius on actor Jack Palance.  The film star, noted for frequently playing villainous roles, obviously had more going on in the schnozzola department than the bat-nosed antagonist of our story, but I still think you can see the resemblance — especially when Morbius is in “daytime mode”, as he is in the present scene.  (Interestingly, Palance is also known to have influenced Jack Kirby’s conception of his ultimate villain, Darkseid, who was appearing in multiple DC comics around this time  — and even closer to home, artist Gene Colan identified the actor as the model for his own visualization of of the titular star of Marvel’s Tomb of Dracula [which, as we’ve discussed, was already in the works when AS-M #101 came out].  Clearly, the former Volodymyr Palahniuk had gotten into the heads of the era’s comic book artists.)

I have to say, I think that if I were on a boat “less than a mile from shore”, and there was any possibility that a murderer was still on board, I’d go ahead and put in to port and get off the damn thing before turning in for the night.  But what do I know?

Stan Lee might not have wanted Thomas and Kane to use Dracula as the vampiric villain in their Spider-Man story, but that didn’t stop them from constructing the entire previous sequence as an obvious homage to the seventh chapter of Bram Stoker’s classic 1897 novel.

Thomas’ narrative isn’t entirely clear as to whether Morbius purposefully swims to shore, or is simply carried in by the tide — but in either case, he emerges from the sea just as a new day is dawning…

There’s some confusion in these scenes as regards the timing and causes of Morbius’ physical transformations — i.e., the changes in his skin color and the size/shape/color of his eyes — which may be partly the fault of the colorist, though Kane’s visual storytelling isn’t crystal clear, either.  Other bits of business which might initially seem like errors — Morbius not burning up in sunlight, or his not needing a coffin to sleep in — are, of course, actually contextual clues to the less-than-traditional nature of his apparent vampirism.

While Morbius slumbers in the Connors’ house’s belfry, Spidey is hard at work downstairs, desperately searching for a cure for his condition — as he has been for a couple of days now.  Unfortunately, the search isn’t going very well…

Seems like someone’s Spider-sense should be kicking in right about now… but I guess not.

One thing that strikes me on re-reading this story today is how clever Kane — a master at depicting human anatomy — is in fudging the whole question of just how Spider-Man’s extra arms work.  (Seriously, how do the things connect to the rest of his musculoskeletal system?)  In some panels, the artist gets some help from the fact that the arms extend through rips in our hero’s costume, so that we never see the actual “join”, either skin-to-skin, or its spandex equivalent.  In others, it’s the positioning of the figure, or the angle of the view, that supports the illusion.  Somehow, Kane makes the whole thing believable; quite an achievement, in my humble opinion.

Is there anyone out there reading this who doesn’t know what’s coming up on the very next (also the very last) page?  I didn’t think so.

So, we’re heading into the next issue with this storyline.  No surprise there — but what’s all this about “the first double-size, double-action issue of Spider-Man“?  For the answer to that question, faithful reader, be sure and check back next month for our post about Amazing Spider-Man #102 — and for posts about a whole slew of other “double-size, double-action” comic books as well.  They’ll all be part of our commemoration of the one, brief shining moment from fifty years ago that we’re calling Giant-Size Marvel Month.  Miss it not, true believer!

18 comments

  1. dangermash · July 17

    I’ve said this so many times but Kane and Giacoia really didn’t work as a combination. That Lizard look is terrible. It’s not just down to the lack of teeth – Ditko, Romita and Buscema have drawn toothless Lizards before this without making him look like an old man who’s left his teeth in a glass in the bathroom.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. frednotfaith2 · July 17

    Got this in the extra-Giant-Size Treasury Edition reprint. Can’t recall if Dr. Connors’ previous transformations into the Lizard (after his Ditko-drawn debut) were brought on by stress or if Thomas & Kane were appropriating Dr. Banner’s affliction for this latest Lizard tale. As to Morbius, having murdered a ship full of people to sate his monstrous appetite, Morbius, right off the, ahem, bat, is one of the rather few Marvel villains up to this point shown to have purposely killed others. Red Skull and Dr. Doom had been depicted as committing mass murder (or at least strongly hinted to have done so), but otherwise I can’t think of any other recurring Silver Age baddies with anything like the deadly body count of Morbius in this debut. Yet another big signal that we’re entering into a new age of superhero comics. Even so, there’s nothing too graphic in Kane’s art but Thomas’ narration leaves no doubt about what Morbius has done. I also find it a bit striking that Kane, a key artist in DC’s early Silver Age, has now become the key artist on Marvel’s most popular comic during its tonal transition from the Silver to the Bronze age, from the death of George Stacy in issue 90 to that of Gwen Stacy in 121 & 122. Kane’s art, much like Ditko’s, IMO, had a mix of gritty realism & eeriness that seemed very apt for these stories, more so than Romita’s typically more polished art. Still, as you noted, Kane had to fudge on those arms! I’ve found pictures of people with two extra arms but not of anyone with an additional four arms and have no idea if such a genetic birth defect is physiologically possible in the real world (no restraints at all in fantasy!), but I can appreciate the difficulties in making it look right and although to my eyes, six-armed Spidey didn’t always look quite right, Kane mostly pulled it off well enough. Now I wonder why no one has yet done a Marvel &
    DC Halloween special Spidey & Batman team-up against Morbius and the Man-Bat!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Alan Stewart · July 17

      My main exposure to the Lizard prior to this story had been via his role in the “Petrified Tablet Saga” and its immediate aftermath (see https://50yearoldcomics.com/2019/05/29/amazing-spider-man-75-august-1969/ ) — there, while his transformation was indeed brought on by stress, it was a “slow burn” that took several issues to come to fruition.

      Liked by 2 people

      • frednotfaith2 · July 17

        I think this was the 4th story to feature the Lizard, and seems Thomas seriously accelerated the speed of the transformation. Perfectly understandable why but it did make the character a bit too much like that other, somewhat more popular green-skinned character with purple pants.

        Liked by 2 people

  3. firewater65 · July 17

    Hey, this book is from my personal sacred timeline. While not my favorite Spider-Man artist, Gil Kane remains one of my favorite comic artists, at least. I know next to nothing about the continuity after the 1970s, but this issue was in the sweet spot.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. DontheArtistformerlyknownasfrodo628 · July 17

    I remember this book very well. Having been indoctinated to the House of Marvel by friends the year or two before, I was all aboard the Spider-Man train, and even if I hadn’t already been a huge Gil Kane fan, the sight of Morbius on the cover, battling a six-armed Spidey would have sold it for sure.

    One thing I appreciated in the Lee/Thomas script (I guess mostly Lee since it happened in #100), was the fact that it took TIME for Peter to grow his new arms and that the stress made him pass out. Ironically, I’ve always hated in horror stories when humans are transformed into vampires (or into werewolves or zombies) in mere minutes when the complicated physical and genetic changes would need Stoker’s original three days at least to fully change into their new, un-dead form. Peter didn’t take three days, but I appreciated that Lee, especially, a writer not known for his slavish attention to the science of it all, at least acknowledged that it took some time for extra arms to grow.

    Aside from the coincidence of Morbius deciding to hide in the same house Spider-Man was hiding in, this story was pretty tight. I enjoyed the echoes of Dracula’s journey to London and killing almost all the crew members of the Demeter in Morbius’ sea voyage to America and the addition of the Lizard at the end made sense (why wouldn’t Connors go to check on an obviously distressed Spider-Man at the house he’d lent him?) and upped the stakes dramatcially, making for a great cliff-hanger. While Giacoa still isn’t a good inker for him, Frank seems to have been in more of a mood to “let Kane be Kane” and the beauty of Kane’s pencils as well as the anatomical acrobatics of never showing exactly how those extra arms connect is allowed to shine more than once. That splash panel of Morbius knocking Spidey down the stairs is particularly dramatic.

    All in all, a good story and a nice follow-up to #100. Does it ever occur to Doc Connors that if Spidey can grow himself four new arms, he might be able to help grow the doc just one? I don’t remember. I guess we’ll find out.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. mkelligrew · July 18

    Kane wasn’t the easiest penciller to ink. Kind of the opposite of Gene Colan, all lines and muscle. Plus, the pencillers didn’t pencil as tight as they do today. It makes sense that Giacioa would ink him, since he could pencil as well, but Frank was slow and needed help.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Chris A. · July 18

    When Romita Sr. inked Kane it was the perfect combination in early Bronze Age Spider-Man issues.

    I never knew of any sci-fi roots in Morbius, so we’ll see what you have to say when 102 is reviewed.

    Liked by 3 people

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  8. Darkseid, Dracula and Morbius the Living Vampire walk into a bar, and the bartender asks “What can I get you, Mr. Palance?”

    Nowadays, with comic books having achieved much greater cultural cachet, if Stan Lee and Alain Resnais were both still alive and collaborating on a movie, and the project fell through, they would undoubtedly just re-purpose the whole things as a high-profile prestige format graphic novel.

    Liked by 4 people

  9. Stu Fischer · July 27

    I don’t have much to add here other than I vividly remember this story and really liked it. I would like to address some of the comments though.

    It didn’t occur to me back in 1971 nor when I re-read it over the last couple of days that Morbius’ mass murder spree was unusual in comics (even Marvel Comics) at the time, certainly for characters that were not adapted from pre-existing characters outside the medium. That’s an excellent point and it certainly added realism. Oddly enough, by the early 1990s, in Marvel at least, mass murder violated realism at times (I’m reading “Maximum Carnage” right now and the number of murders committed in that crossover should have elicited a greater response from other superheroes to say nothing of non-superpowered authorities (e.g., the military, SHIELD).

    I agree that The Lizard looks awful. I thought that back in 1971 as well. I laughed at the description that he looks like an old man who left his teeth in the bathroom.

    When reading the comment about The Lizard having purple pants like the Hulk, I actually thought FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME about where did the idea of purple pants come from. I don’t remember anyone wearing purple pants in real life, they certainly weren’t widely available in stores and in any event they would seem to be a fashion statement that would not have been in character for either Bruce Banner or Curt Connors. Then again, at least in Bruce Banner’s case, maybe they weren’t selling and he bought them at thrift shops for less than a dollar each (in 1971) because he knew he would grow out of them frequently.

    Liked by 2 people

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