Spider-Man is my favorite comic book hero. It's not even close. When I was a kid and I first read comic books, he was my guy. I haven't been a regular comics reader since I entered adolescence, but I have fond memories of the small collection I had, mostly of Spidey and his rogues' gallery of villains as they battled throughout the streets of New York. But the appeal was never just about the super-heroics; Peter Parker, Spider-Man's alter ego, was a teenager from a lower-middle-class background who had all the usual worries of a kid growing up, in addition to super powers and the guilt that he had helped cause his beloved uncle's death. His mission was to fight crime, but he was also a sassy teenager (or young man, depending on where in the timeline you came in), and he made it look fun for the most part. His villains weren't just the costumed freaks who showed up every month, but the perils of high school and young adulthood, the living paycheck to paycheck of the working poor, and the cruel society that could elevate Spider-Man while putting Peter Parker down (well, J. Jonah Jameson didn't elevate Spidey, but he sure used Parker's pics to move his publications).
This is a fun collection of some of the earliest Spider-Man comics, brought under the imprint of Penguin Classics to the world in a format that is at once respectful of the source material and elevating it to the level of "Jane Eyre" and "A Tale of Two Cities." I'm a big fan of Penguin Classic's design (and the edition I read of this has that, with the black border and black spine and back cover), and there's enough here to validate the distinction that comes with the stamp of approval. The early Spider-Man comic books, on the surface, might strike more modern readers and goofy and odd, but that's the appeal of the collection: as it goes on, the art and storytelling become more assured, the characterizations less broad and more nuanced, and the world-building more confident as it fleshes out the everyday struggle between Peter Parker's life as a nondescript teenager and his high-flying, wise-cracking alter ego. It's no wonder why Spidey appeals to multiple generations; it's not hard to see yourself in either version of the dual personality at the heart of this story.
So yeah, there's a lot in the early episodes of this story that feels goofy and unintentionally funny to modern readers. When they first began their collaboration (and their disputes over attribution), Stan Lee and Steve Ditko were serving a market primarily focused on teenagers, specifically teenage boys, and so you won't get Tolstoy-level literary prowess here. Comics have evolved to become the springboard for multiple epics all contained in cinematic universes that seemingly will never end, but the fact is that they began as the sort of material thought best for young people to enjoy, and while Marvel was always more interested in trying to broaden their appeal and reach out for more advanced audiences, they certainly didn't always make things so serious. But that's the appeal of Spider-Man all along: he's a teenager with a smart mouth who has some of the usual worries that come with the first pimple or first date, but that's compounded by his special gift courtesy a radioactive spider and a guilt complex that would make Freud jealous. Peter Parker (and the various other "Spider-Men/Women" who've come along in the multiverse) is a universal teenager in many ways, a relatable figure no matter how specific his story is.
Steve Ditko famously created the look of Spider-Man and many of his villains, and they're rendered beautifully here. But there are times when I found myself agreeing with one of the correspondents in a letters-to-the-editor section (included in this edition) that he couldn't draw human beings very well (there are times when poor Aunt May, rendered ancient in the drawings, looks positively ghoulish from a distance). The art work gets better as the collection goes on, and so does the storytelling. An awkward meeting/battle between Spidey and the Fantastic Four (looking to make money, he offers to join them until he finds out they're a non-profit) pays off in episodes where Johnny Storm shows up in later issues (the crossover between properties in the Marvel universe was already a thing well before the MCU), and even the Hulk shows up in what proves to be the first appearance of Spidey's greatest villain (don't @ me), the Green Goblin.
I really enjoyed this, it made me feel like a kid again (albeit one who could have a hearty laugh at some of the awkwardness of the first few issues). Covering the debut of Spider-Man in a now-defunct Marvel title, the book shows the evolution of Spidey under Lee and Ditko's direction over the next two years or so, ending in 1964 (two years before Ditko and Lee's acrimonious parting). As I've gotten older and been overwhelmed by superhero movies, I've found myself more open to reading comics again, usually in collections like this or graphic novels. I may never haunt the aisles of a comic book store again, but I can appreciate the level of artistry involved and maybe, just maybe, not mind so many damn movies about the Marvel and DC characters (depends on how good the movies are, honestly. I'm no Scorsese when it comes to tearing them all down). "The Amazing Spider-Man" is a collection that canonizes one of the most appealing and original creations in literary history, in a way that is long overdue.