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Peter David Sept. 23, 1956-May 34, 2025. |
Eisner-award-winning comic-book writer Peter David has passed away this week, at 68, after a lengthy struggle with health problems. I knew him not personally, but as the byline of the guy who wrote The Incredible Hulk for about 11 years, from when I was a kid dreaming deeply in grade eight to my twentysomething days in Old Blighty. I read Peter David's entire run, a run that earned him legendary status and reverence, from his roughshod debut in issue # 331 to issue # 467, announcing his sudden departure issue.
David started on the book with the May 1, 1987 issue # 331, "Inconstant Moon". I was in grade eight, drawing the Hulk and other heroes such as Spider-Man, Superman, Batman and Captain Marvel with my best pal Dietrich, a Jehovah's Witness. We were preoccupied with bullies, a little (well, maybe a lot) afraid of girls, and quite a lot invested in superheroes. Peter David's final issue, # 467, titled "The Lone and Level Sands", bore an August 1, 1998 cover date. By then, I was in my mid-twenties, living, working, drinking, writing and growing in London, England.
He inspired me so much, as a writer, that I thanked him in my acknowledgemennts in my first horror novel, Town & Train. And my 17-year-old hero John Daniel is even reading The Incredible Hulk issue # 355 in one scene. My book, set in 1990, examines the theme of realizing your dreams, or nightmares. I wanted to shoehorn in the kind of thing a geeky, horny, restless 17-year-old would read in the heatwave summer of 1990 in a small city.
In actuality, at that time of my writing, issue # 355 of the Jade Giant's comic was hitting the specialty-store stands. The issue I referenced, that John reads, is titled "Now You See It ..." and cover-dated May 1989. A trippy interloper who calls himself Glorian promises Hulk his fondest dreams if Glorian can only, you know, cleanse the Hulk's soul. In my book, which I started in August 1990, the conductor of a mysterious steam engine train promises anyone their wildest dreams if they only just come aboard. An obvious line-through of inspiration, that.
So, I read Peter David's Jade Giant for quite a spell. Eleven years, in fact. From my flat in Central London's Hackney, I hand-wrote him a letter of thanks once I read in the letters page, Green-Skin's Grab-Bag, that he was leaving the book suddenly. I never heard back, which is often par for course in the comuc-book business.
Why did I like his portrayal of the Hulk so much? I had been a fan of Ol' Greenskin since I could buy comics. I was a kid with a temper problem. I was athletic in some ways, but not enamored with sports. I struggled with bullies regularly. Superheroes and reading were an obvious imaginative, escapist outlet. So, I enjoyed me some globe-spanning power fantasies, as in the early 1980's Hulk monthly comic. Yet ... Peter David was all about character development and exploration. And he had the Hulk confront other characters in singularly interesting ways, including when the Blob, an immovable object, couldn't expulse Hulk's fist from his massive gut.
Eventually, David ended Jade Jaw's often meandering worldwide travels of writer Bill Mantlo's era that I was weaned on, introducing an entire new super-powered team, the Pantheon. This allowed him to develop Bruce Banner's traumatic childhood, further delving into how Banner's father was abusive and the effect of this abuse on Bruce as a young boy. Through the MacGuffin of therapy sessions with psychiatrist character Doc Samson, David posited that the Hulk was only one of many personas of Bruce's disassociative identity disorder, a result of his childhood experience in that he created personas to protect himself. Samson had been around for years, since issue # 141, with its cringeworthy sexist Herb Trimpe cover, with the Doc uttering, "Foolish Female!!! The victory shall belong to Doc Samson!" However, the handsome musclehead had never acted as Bruce's therapist or shrink to treat his obvious and distinct Hulk and Banner personalities.
Bill Mantlo', ending his considerable Incredible Hulk tenure, had laid the groundwork for childhood trauma and schizophrenia, but it was David who examined the effects of child abuse, namely Bruce Banner's personas. Peter David also, at the first opportunity, through a plot MacGuffin, and with editorial blessing, powered down the character, making him not only grey but cunning, and often mean, as well as articulate and intelligent. Now, Bruce Banner only turned into his alter-ego, the Grey Hulk, at night. The full moon affected him, making him stronger. In this way, David added a shameless yet wonderful supernatural touch to the Hulk mythos, enriching it. Yet at the same time, this powered-down, smaller version of the character was a throwback to the Hulk's very first appearance.
Some longtime fans bristled, while others, such as myself, paid attention, leaned in and watched what Peter David did. He admitted later on to flying by the seat of his pants until it became clear what he was doing with a floundering title that editorial didn't care much about. But he stuck with it, stayed in the book and kept going, likely determined to do something interesting with a character he was kind of indifferent about at the outset.
The writer also penned the most popular era of the Hulk as Joe Fixit, a legbreaker for casino owner Mike Berengetti in Las Vegas. The irascible Fixit, who didn't take guff from anyone, sported a fedora and pinstripe suit as a disguise. There, he got to know bodyguard, redhead Marlo Chandler, another David character who would go on to to marry former sidekick Rick Jones, and he lived a pretty great life as the Hulk. Other characters such as Iron Man or Spidey might appear, but Fixit lived his own life, no longer on the run from the army, or anyone. Instead, he sent them running. Joe once sent the Grey Gargoyle packing with a concrete severed arm, the villain unsure what would happen if he transformed back into flesh. What a terrific and interesting era for the Hulk, surrounded by a fresh cast of supporting characters, courtesy of Peter David. A deserving fan-favourite.
David also brought back minor players such as the aforementioned hunky psychiatrist Doc Samson, he of the flowing green hair, and tight red muscle shirt with a yellow lightening bolt, and sidekicks such as Rick Jones, and Jim Wilson. Jim died of HIV/AIDs. Bruce visited Jim on his death bed in a touching coda and a Red-Ribbon issue to raise awareness about HIV/AIDs. In this way, Peter brought in startling social relevance.
Peter and I even tussled very briefly over social media when I asked him if he wrote Jim as gay or bi or straight and he refused to say, instead saying that straight people got AIDs too which, of course, I knew, so I let it go.
Memorable moments of David's tenure include when Bruce/the Emerald Giant threatened another character for being homophobic.
At Rick Jones' wedding, Hector, an openly gay character whom David created, flirted with gay hero Northstar of the Canuck super-team, Alpha Flight. For the wedding issue, the author wrote himself into the story as the officiant rabbi who soon got intoxicated at the reception. Famously, David also snuck in an unauthorized and unnamed cameo of the character Death from Neil Gaiman's Sandman series, who gives the bride Marlo a wedding gift and leaves.
Another iconic character moment featured the Hulk and love-interest Betty Ross reconciling over the course of an issue that was one long conversation, ending with them cracking up.
And there were many, many more great character moments during Peter David's revered and psychologically focused run on The Incredible Hulk.
A highlight for the teenaged me was the shamelessly pulpy issue # 335, featuring a horror-flick-loving character whose Stalker alter-ego emerges from under the bed each night to stalk victims with their clawed hands, sporting a wide-brimmed hat. It's an eerie, overly lurid nod to Freddie Krueger of the 1984 Nightmare on Elm Street, which kickstarted the franchise. The imagery and prose affected my feverish 14-year-old imagination much as the pulp magazines such as Weird Tales that it was aping.
Comic-book-famous artist Todd McFarlane got his start in the title when I was in eigth grade as well.
On a very local note, Ottawa artist Dale Keown drew the character for quite a spell in the early nineties.
Thanks for the stories, Peter.
Peter, as I told you in '98, you wrote a mean dream, and many of us dream it with you. The Hulk character grew up, and did I, from an inspired young teen to a twentysomething trying to find his way.
And you—not gamma rays—you transformed the Hulk forever.
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The Red Ribbon issue. Cover and interior art: Ottawa's own Dale Keown. |
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Doc Samson merges all the Hulk personas in this one. Another fine Dale Keown cover-and-interiors issue. |
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This issue, cover-dated March 15, 1988, bares an iconic cover and rathe good interiors from Todd McFarlane. |
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Like I said, overly lurid, and in the spirit of the 1930's/1940's pulps, particularly Weird Tales. Cover art: Steve Geiger and Bob McLeod. |