A short essay comparing the United States to the wall-crawling web-slinger, noting a number of curious similarities between the two.
First published in The Illuminata in May 2003
America As Spider-man
By Bret Funk
America loves to be the hero. Ever since throwing off the shackles of British oppression (no offense intended toward out long-time British allies!), America has been trying to save the world, one country at a time. It loans money, donates food, provides medicine, and even goes to war on behalf of beleaguered innocents and subjugated peoples. Instead of annexing and exploiting the countries it fights, America has a history of rebuilding its one-time foes, turning them—in a generation or two—into strong economic powers and relatively supportive friends.
Americans have a desire—an ingrained need!—to be on the right side. Not necessarily the winning side, but the right side. We seek moral justification for the wars we fight, we demand those justifications when they are not readily apparent, and those who oppose an action quickly, and loudly, voice their opinions, trying to steer the country in the ‘right’ direction. At various times throughout our history, we have been likened to valiant crusaders, brash cowboys, and noble-yet-uncouth roughnecks. A few sensitive souls may view these barbed compliments contemptuously, but many Americans encourage them. They help to define us; they enable us to see ourselves the way we want to be seen—as the good guys.
Yet America’s not just a power; it’s a Superpower. So why should it strive to be a hero when it could be a superhero?
But which one? There are many to choose from, each with a unique history, power, and style. Comparing America to any one (with the possible exception of Captain America) is a daunting task. It was a quandary I mulled over for a long time, until, in a pre-war speech justifying the military buildup around Iraq, I heard a CNN correspondent say, “We are a great power, and with great power comes great responsibility.” Those words made it seem so obvious.
America is Spider-man.
At just over two and a quarter centuries old, America is a young nation, not unlike mild-mannered Peter Parker, who at the start of the comic series is still in high school. New York City, as Parker’s home and America’s heart, is central to both. If one were cataloging defining characteristics, sarcastic wit would top each list, and both appear to have a fondness for the colors blue and red. Additionally, both Parker and America share a love of science and innovation, and both benefit from a strong support base (in Parker’s case, the love of his aunt and uncle; in America’s, the founding ideals of equality and freedom derived from the works of John Locke). Innocent in the ways of the world and often picked on by the older students, Parker is comparable to turn of the century America: introverted, physically unimposing, and often ignored.
Then, like the bite of a radioactive spider, came World War I, and at its conclusion, America was different. Stronger. More confident. But lacking in direction. When Parker first acquired his spider-like abilities, he did not immediately join the forces of good. Instead, he did what any right-minded teenager would do: he exploited his powers for financial gain. During the ‘Roaring Twenties,’ America experienced a similar period of carefree exuberance, wasting the gift that it had been given.
Parker’s crucial turning point came with the death of his beloved Uncle Henry. After letting a would-be thief escape because “it wasn’t his problem” a mortified Parker learned that the very same man was responsible for his uncle’s murder. Enraged and guilt-ridden, Parker donned his wrestling uniform and began his life as Spider-man, using his powers to protect those less fortunate than himself.
Parker’s metamorphosis from nerdy recluse to reluctant hero is similar to America’s foreign policy decisions in the 1930s. Despite blatant aggression and acts of criminal inhumanity, the United States ignored the growing threats of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan. Believing that the problems of Europe and Asia were none of its concern, America was content to sit passively on the sidelines, and it was only after the terrible tragedy at Pearl Harbor that the country mobilized for war. These events opened a new chapter in American history, changing a quiet, isolationistic nation into a world superpower, a champion of freedom, and a protector of the downtrodden.
The similarities between America and Spider-man are not limited to their histories. Many characters in the comic books bear a striking resemblance to America’s strengths and weaknesses. Take Dr. Connors, for example: a talented, good-natured surgeon, brilliant genetic researcher, and long-time supporter of the wall-crawler. But Dr. Connors is also The Lizard, one of Spider-man’s enemies, an evil mutant who causes untold devastation to those around him. Connors’ story is a parable for the duality of scientific discovery, a warning that any technology, even when put in the hands of the well-intentioned, may have serious negative effects on the world and those who live in it.
And what of the Chameleon, a diabolical criminal with the ability to mimic others? A shape-shifter and accomplished impersonator, he can slip past the strongest defenses and attack at the very heart of his foes, then blend into the populace to escape detection. There is a word that describes those who act in such a fashion: terrorist. But the Chameleon is more than a terrorist; he is terrorism in its purest form, and one must wonder if the prophetic Stan Lee recognized the threat terrorism posed on American society, or if he simply made a lucky guess.
Perhaps most revealing are the roles played by two of Spider-man’s worst enemies: The Kingpin and Venom. The Kingpin is a criminal mastermind, a successful businessman in his own right, but one who desperately covets more and is willing to do anything to increase his wealth and power. Venom is an alien symbiote, one who tried—and nearly succeeded—to tempt Spider-man with the promise of greater power. Eventually rebuffed by the web-slinger, Venom found a new host and instilled in it a hatred of the web-slinger. Since then, his sole purpose has been to bring about Spider-man’s demise.
These villains represent the two greatest threats to American society: greed and corruption. The Kingpin, from his gluttonous love of luxury to his over-sized frame, is greed incarnate. His efforts to increase his influence in the criminal underworld bring him into constant conflict with Spider-man, just as the unrestricted desire to obtain more, at any cost, is constantly at odds with America’s more noble values. And though Spider-man is adept at capturing The Kingpin’s henchman (just as the American criminal system—at least occasionally—captures the greedy), The Kingpin himself (greed, that is) has proven to be all but impossible to eliminate.
Corruption, whether it be corporate, political or personal, is much like the symbiote Venom. Its promises can be seductive, and if one man proves too hard to assimilate, it merely seeks out another host. The very idea of corruption is a direct threat to America’s principles and democratic government; nevertheless, times have been when America as a whole almost succumbed to corruption’s temptations. But, just like Spider-man, the country has so far been able to keep the monster at bay.
Finally, the public’s perception provides even more evidence of the Spider-man/America duality. After saving countless lives, capturing numerous criminals, and risking his life time and again for the people of New York, Spider-man receives a depressingly mixed reaction from the populous. There are those who love him, who view him as a hero, friend and ally; but this group often appears to be in the minority. Far greater are those who question his intentions, fear his powers, or disdain him for having something that they do not. The media treats him as a monster and often overlooks his good deeds in order to report the more sensational—and accidental—collateral damage that his crime-fighting causes.
Few—even the wall-crawler himself—would argue that Spider-man is purely good. In the past, he has stumbled, made mistakes, and doubted his own motives. (He is only human, after all, and susceptible to all of humanity’s weaknesses.) At times he has felt isolated, unappreciated, and alone; he has even questioned his role as ‘policeman of New York’ and wondered whether he should step aside and allow others to fend for themselves. In the end, he remembers the words of his beloved uncle—“With great power, comes great responsibility.”—and he knows that he has no choice but to be a hero.
Is America the same as Spider-man? The only way to find out, true -believers, is to stay tuned.
