By Bruno Savill De Jong — It’s 1992. Cartoon Network is founded, DNA fingerprinting is invented, Minnesota’s Mall of America debuts, and the 1992 riots erupt in Los Angeles. People are listening to “Creep,” watching Basic Instinct and reading Daredevil.

After Last Rites had Daredevil finally bring the Kingpin down, 1992’s Daredevil primarily deals with the fallout from this fall, and how other criminals fill in the vacuum. As Daredevil describes it, “carrion moving in to feed on the bloated corpse that was his empire of vice.” It’s a cynical piece of purple prose that exemplifies much of the tone of Chichester’s second year on Daredevil, with recurring imagery of how “animals live in the green” of New York City and Daredevil is the apex predator that maintains the ecosystem and stops others from eating each other.

Chichester tackles such a callous meat-market with a two-parter, guest-starring Spider-Man, about the Surgeon General and her black-market organ harvesting operation. Here, “life turns cheap, then it turns up in the emergency room,” the Surgeon General luring in healthy men as a seductive club-goer before stripping them for parts and letting them bleed; in either case, people are only using each other for their flesh. This story features some fun scenes of (a newly married) Peter Parker undercover in nightclubs, but the issues are also overburdened by Matt’s cynical noir narration and the unintentionally silly Surgeon General plot, which tries to make a bitter point about capitalist advantageousness but has too many strange leaps of logic to really land.

A more effective take on similar themes is “34 Hours” (Daredevil #304), which shows Daredevil tirelessly working across the city, including preventing car accidents or helping out homeless men. It’s the kind of life-in-the-day superhero comic that cements the tangible good Daredevil does on the streets, as well as the constant work to make it all run smoothly. Even amongst this mostly feel-good issue, Daredevil is always reminded how it is murder and death which is the standard, and his involvement only staves off the inevitable.

Chichester contends with the Kingpin’s fallout more directly in “Dead Man’s Hand,” a multi-part crossover involving both Nomad and Punisher War Journal that depicts a “conference” in Las Vegas of various supervillain factions – including HYDRA, the Hand, Justin Hammer, the Maggia etc. – trying to harmoniously carve up Wilson Fisk’s former empire. Of course, these groups let their old rivalries and greed get in the way of peaceful negotiation, and Daredevil (Matt Murdock conveniently being in Nevada on business), Punisher and Nomad also intervene.

Although dividing up the Kingpin’s empire is only the set-up, as “Dead Man’s Hand” rarely gets into the specifics of his assets and ultimately becomes an extremely bloated and aimless event (Chichester even shoehorning in his original creation Terror Inc). Over its 9 issues, our heroes do not develop or accomplish much, the storyline used as an excuse for increasingly excessive action sequences. The most compelling parts are the internal feuds – for instance, the Fenris twins disliking the splintered factions of HYDRA, or Tombstone’s anger towards The Hand – that feel superfluous and unresolved. 

Plus, the artwork is of fluctuating quality over this year of Daredevil. Scott McDaniel is now an established comic draughtsman, but he admits himself at this point he was just a “rookie” at this point. As a result, his lines are indistinct and characters lopsided and bulky, resulting in some fairly tough artwork. When Matt returns from Vegas and (after temporarily dying) battles the witch Calypso – in a storyline guest-written by McDaniel’s “good friend” Glenn Herdling – the messy artwork sometimes makes it hard to decipher what is happening. This, alongside Chichester’s increasingly cluttered and overbearing narration boxes, significantly drags down 1992’s Daredevil output.

In fairness, though, Chichester did tackle fallout from the Kingpin with more grace earlier in the year. Here, drug dealers are being torn apart after refusing to work with The Owl. The Owl – aside from Nocenti’s daffy, retro, out-of-continuity “Baby Boom!” (Daredevil #264) – hadn’t been seen in Daredevil since 1977, when his legs had become crippled from his flying-formula. The Owl always belong to Daredevil’s pre-Miller “Dick Tracy” inspired villains, a gimmicky gangster whom Matt detects “pure evil” from during his first appearance way back in Daredevil #3. Despite being a founding member of Daredevil’s (relatively small) rogues gallery, he didn’t seem to survive the ferociousness or “realism” of the 1980s.

So, what Chichester and artist M.C. Wyman do is make such inferiority part of The Owl’s character. They detail how he’s never held the same respect as the Kingpin, or even similar Stan Lee villains like Doctor Octopus. The Owl was neither “pure” or remarkable enough to have a lasting legacy. This story gives the small backstory of Leland Owsley once being an average accountant, who got seduced by the criminal lifestyle. Now, the Owl’s formula has horrifically mutated his body to become bird-themed, including a sharp exoskeleton and the grotesque ability to twist his neck around. The Owl no longer has an avian motif, but one soaked into his flesh, unable to even claim the classy respect the Kingpin once held or even go back to his old life.

This storyline is by no means perfect. As a 3-parter, it's still stretched out a little too thin, and it concludes by oddly invoking “rooftop hybrid wolves” that Foggy Nelson had been discussing in an unrelated case. Yet, perhaps only as a product of this extensive year-by-year retrospective, Daredevil asking Leland how long they’ve known each other, and his horrified reaction to how low The Owl has sunk, sold me on the tragedy. Here, the ugly twisted artwork helps demonstrate what The Owl has done to himself to survive in this predatory criminal world, as well as the cost of doing so.

Even so, Daredevil refuses to give up on him. Such compassion seems to be a core tenant that Chichester emphasises, as Matt also saves the Surgeon General from her wounds and protects criminals from The Punisher, thinking how “my code says every individual, no matter his past, deserves a second chance.” One wonders if such an ethos extends to the Kingpin, briefly seen clawing his way up from sleeping on the streets, or if his chances have expired. But with The Owl, Daredevil seems to genuinely believe in his rehabilitation. An emotionally charged ending shows Daredevil rescuing a remorseful, suicidal Owl, determined to at least attempt the long hard road to redemption. If criminals can be reduced to animalistic monsters, then maybe they can also become human again, too.

Read classic Daredevil Comics!

Check out past installments from The Man Without Fear…By The Year!

Check out Bruno Savill De Jong’s last regular series, Gotham Central Case by Case!

Bruno Savill De Jong is a recent undergraduate of English and freelance writer on films and comics, living in London. His infrequent comics-blog is Panels are Windows and semi-frequent Twitter is BrunoSavillDeJo.