ICYMI: “Miles Morales: Spider-Man”
Written by Jason Reynolds and published by Scholastic Books in 2017, Miles Morales: Spider-Man is a teen lit novel featuring the titular character as made famous by Marvel comics and the animated film. Unlike the movie (a true masterpiece, btw), this Miles Morales is from a different universe— one where he didn’t encounter all the other multiverse Spider people (and if you don’t know what I mean, just see it — it’s on Netflix still). He was bit by a radioactive spider in his uncle’s apartment and adopted the Spider-Man role without further prompting, much like in the comics. But whether Miles is following in Pete’s footsteps or not is a different story. That’s not what this book is about.
If you live in Chicago, or any other urban environment, you’ve probably seen those small wooden boxes for honor lending libraries at the sidewalk’s edge. Sometimes, if a book I’m reading is appropriate for youth, I’ll drop something in there supposing I’ve had my fill with it. It’s better than the yuppies who leave self-help garbage or the …For Dummies books in there after they never actually helped them. Anyway, I was doing just that when I saw Spider-Man printed down the spine of a book. At first, I thought it was a graphic novel and said, “Sacrilege,” but low-and-behold, it was a teen lit story. I’d been thinking of trying my hand at teen lit, lately, so I figured, borrowing this for a couple of weeks wouldn’t hurt anyone. If I’m being frank though, it was more than a couple of weeks. Numerous complications in my life kept me from having the attention span to focus on this story, so it wasn’t until recently that I got to dig in (and then return it).
It’s not really Spider-Man unless there’s some web-slinging, some fighting baddies, and some down-to-earth urban values. While there’s a little web-slinging and a couple of baddies, those take a backseat to this coming of age story. It focuses on Miles’s learning to carry the burden of doing what’s right and being a marginalized person in a society bent on combatting people-of-color. And by that, I mean this society. Miles is surrounded by constant efforts to push him into street crime due to the cost of living and the character his neighborhood has taken, he’s become afraid of police (even though this father is a cop) because of how many people have been arrested at random from the street he lives on, and he’s reminded on a daily basis about how unwelcome he is as his teacher professes his admiration for the confederate south. He doesn’t really do that much crime fighting at all — he fights with his parents, he tries to woo a girl from class, he plays Nintendo with his roommate. But he also has a cousin who was estranged from his deceased uncle, the Prowler. This cousin, who according to Miles, “He looked just like me,” is serving the rest of his teens in juvie — something Miles constantly worries for, for his own future.
No matter what you think about Scholastic Books, this is definitely teen lit. It involves a lot of complicated emotions and thoughtful interactions that teens struggle through — stuff that I still face today. It’s hard not to feel like Miles when he sees his people erased from history by right-wing academics. It’s hard to not feel like nothing when you watch yourself erased from history. Admittedly, there were more than a few times reading this story where I wished I could reach through the pages and be the Jake Johnson character from the Spider-verse film, to help Miles hone the mental armor to bear the psychological wounds inflicted upon you for being different. Or like when he experiences the death of a family member and can’t help but wonder if the same fate is meant for him. Or when you say or do something stupid in front of someone that you’re hopelessly infatuated with. But that’s what makes this story great. Sure, there’s a villain waiting for Spider-Man somewhere in these life complications, but more than anything, the worst villain of all is coming of age in a society that hasn’t prepared you to grow up.
The dialogue in these moments, and throughout the rest of the book, is sharp and colloquial. Some of my favorite interactions, which are entirely missing from the aforementioned film, are Miles’s conversations with his roommate, Ganke, a Korean-American who feels just as left out of the picture as Miles does. I think the author could do more to develop scene, but when it comes to internal monologues and building tension, Reynolds masterfully transforms Miles from a teenager into a superhero. If you’re looking for a quick, fun read, or you’re impatient waiting for the sequel to Into the Spider-Verse, I recommend slinging to your nearest shop and crawling into a copy of this. As I said in my last post on the subject, Miles Morales is the Spider-Man we deserve.
