Jack Hits the Road in She-Hulk #10

The broken and the broken-hearted — Jack and Jen’s romance is doomed after a scuffle with mad scientists left Jack’s powers wildly on the fritz again, and a danger to She-Hulk. But life doesn’t stop when things break down, be they hearts or superpowers, leaving only the question: Where do we go from here? Jen searches for that very answer in She-Hulk #10, written by Rainbow Rowell, drawn by Takeshi Miyazawa, colored by Rico Renzi and lettered by Joe Caramagna

Armaan Babu: I think back to the opening page of this run — Jen, lonely, tired and exhausted at the prospect of making a new start for herself. But she landed on her feet and made the best of it, finding her footing and no small measure of both personal and professional success. She made a life for herself. 

Despite her broken heart, she has to live with that life. Go through the motions of her own success. It’s a different kind of exhausting. 

Stephanie Burt: Wait, are you trying to tell us that this comic book is just … going through the motions?

Armaan: I wouldn’t say that — but let’s dive in, in more detail!

Life Goes On

Stephanie: Last issue ended with the Booths’ scheme defeated, Jennifer safe and Jack potentially dead, having re-absorbed the Zero Energy that turned him from an English major into a dangerous, radioactive hero.

Armaan: A dangerous, radioactive English major. The horror.

Stephanie: This issue opens as Jennifer weeps over his inert, potentially man-fridged body. In a neat touch, Miyazawa draws Jack’s human side (literally — he’s got facial asymmetry) when Jen thinks he’s gone, and then his charcoal and scarlet weird-hero side as soon as he wakes up and warns her away. Of course he’s not dead. But he needs to take a hike, right up into space, because he’s literally too dangerous for Jen, or anybody, to be around sans his containment suit. 

Armaan: There’s a tragedy in just how quickly Jack reacts. There’s not a second for him to process, or try to deny what’s happened, not even a moment to feel sad. The second he opens his eyes, he is aware of the responsibility he has to keep those around him safe from, well, himself. It’s a burden he’s lived with all his life, and he’s not so used to it being gone that he won’t snap back into Stay-Away mode at a moment’s notice.

He has this handled, to a degree that She-Hulk isn’t even all that worried about him. Just … sad, because he must be gone. He has it handled, and all she can do is return to her life.

Stephanie: Did you get the feeling that this comic was dragging Jen’s sadness out? I mean, I’m all for slow burns and quiet moments, but did we gain a whole lot from seeing Jen open her freezer and microwave her dinner and then eat it? From seeing her punch faceless bad guys along with the current Avengers (Hello, Ms. Marvel!) in two separate double-wide panels? From an entire page of sad lazing in bed? These are big panels, too, and there’s not much detail work. This meeting could have been an email.

Armaan: This run of She-Hulk has always been very slice-of-life. I love it for that, and I love it here, too. I would absolutely read a six-issue arc of Jennifer sadly microwaving dinner, and ambling through superhero battles with a mopey face, working out her demons by punching literal demons into oblivion. Instead, we get just enough of a montage to really build up how pervasive her grief is. As much as I’ve complained about this book’s pacing, I feel this was just the perfect amount of space for this. It makes me feel tired, in a way I think is absolutely intended.

Stephanie: I do, however, like how Jen texts Thor (“U up?”) because she’s bored and lonely, perhaps with the faint implication that she’s inviting Odinson for a booty call. The guest who comes over, however, is decidedly less famous, and more eager for Jennifer’s gossip.

Armaan: I actually read it the other way — the chat bubble points to the left, which I took to mean that Thor’s the one texting Jen. A lousy cherry on top of a terrible day — either way, who better to cheer Jen up than everyone’s favorite Hellcat?

Enter Patsy Walker

Stephanie: I’m always happy to see Patsy Walker, Hellcat — I loved the whimsical solo series she got in 2015-17, and apparently she’s up for a new solo miniseries in March? Here there’s no hint of her costume or powers, just a bit of “ride-or-die best friend” conversation with red wine, big goblets and incredulity. “You hooked up with Jack of Hearts, and you didn’t tell me??? … You’re gonna sing like a canary.” Does Patsy have a history with Jack? Or is the tone more “I can’t believe you slept with that guy, I didn’t think he was on your social level?” I could hear either one here.

Armaan: As far as I know, there’s no history between Patsy and Jack — but Patsy and Jen’s friendship has been well established, and I feel like Patsy would know all about how significant Jack’s return was.

Stephanie: In my favorite part of this issue, and in the part that feels most comfortable for Rowell — honestly, most like her other writing, what I’ve read of it! — Jen and Patsy chat about how Jen has looked for Jack, how she almost hopes he’s lost in space (because that would mean he’s not blowing her off), about how this romance felt unlike Jennifer Walters’ previous romantic misadventures. The conversation feels right, and well-paced, even if it makes our Jen a bit more dependent on masculine approval than I usually seek in a big, green lawyer.

Armaan: Patsy’s both a good friend and a perennial gossip — the perfect person to have on your couch when you need to just talk about what’s been bothering you, especially if it’s in the romance department.

Rowell does very well with quiet conversations, and this is the kind of thing I wish more comics made space for. Miyazawa’s art complements this perfectly … there’s a softness here, and a playfulness in Patty’s body language, eagerness and energy. Jen and her story have Patsy’s full attention. Jen’s wrapped up in her pain — she rarely looks directly at Patsy here — but is clearly in a comfortable, safe space with Patsy. It’s lovely to see.

Stephanie: That conversation also echoes beats from the TV show: Jen wants a man who will love her as Jen and as Shulkie, who won’t gravitate to one or the other. She wants a man who’s not intimidated by her prowess when she’s Hulked out, but who doesn’t fetishize it either. Jack was that man, the first one she’s known. No, the second: The first one was Wyatt Wingfoot, and their romance didn’t work out for other reasons, and now Jack’s gone. 

Armaan, how did you feel about the crash course in Shulkie romance that these pages give? I wish they came with full-on 1980s-style footnotes to runs and issues where we could read about Jen’s romance with Man-Wolf, and with Wyatt, and with anyone else. Hey, also, did Man-Wolf ever joke about former Marvel honcho and Teen Titans scripter Marv Wolfman? I know he’s J. Jonah Jameson’s son. A Jamesonson, as it were. 

Armaan: I enjoy this book’s crash courses. They leave out details best left forgotten to canon. But mainly, I have always been fascinated by the Hulks’ relationships with their alter-egos. Jennifer’s is particularly interesting — she retains her mind while she’s She-Hulk. It’s arguable how much her personality changes from one form to the other, and how people react to that is interesting. How do partners react to their loved one being able to make a complete physical transformation at will? 

Jack just … saw through both sides, and the bits in between, with all that lust for life that made him such an endearing romantic lead. The way Jen describes it, it sounds like he made her feel seen. That’s a hard thing to find. I’m all in on this working out.

There are, however, a few complications …

A Rogue Issue

Stephanie: This whole issue could have been six pages long, to be honest. Jack leaves, Jen does sad daily life things, Patsy comes over, Jen pours her heart out, Jack comes back. However, I do love Doombot, last seen toward the end of Rowell’s Runaways. He’s “not even close to Jen’s most irritating client.” And Jen gets him cleared of all charges, except for jaywalking, on the grounds that of course he’s not Doom, no matter how often he says he is.

Armaan: It’s not the drawn out legal case on robotics I wanted, but it is the follow-up I needed. Of all of Jen’s cases, this is the only one we’ve seen re-examined, and I’m happy it’s this one. 

Stephanie: Do you buy that Doombot’s acquittal is really the Book Law Firm’s first won case? How long has this firm been around? How bad are they? Maybe they mostly settle, or plead out, rather than going to trial? Are they primarily criminal defense? Rowell’s a fun writer, but sometimes I miss the days when She-Hulk was written by a lawyer (Charles Soule). Who was also a fun writer.

Armaan: If this really is the first case they’ve won, well … that’s a larger issue that I think Rowell’s seeding in for later. Aside from the occasional gag, the firm has largely been a background setting. I have the feeling that might change, soon, once things with Jack settle down a little. Speaking of Jack, however — guess who’s back from space, full costume and everything?

Stephanie: Hi, Jack! Of course he’s come back. He’s got his containment suit, which will never not remind me of the Maryland state flag. Thing must be hell to draw, and to color. He’s hot. Attractive, but also literally hot: There’s pink steam rising from his eye. On the other hand, he’s “not leaking. Or ambiently absorbing.” Probably safe to be around. Jen sure thinks so: They go back into her freezer and heat up everything, and there’s a heartwarming reunion. 

Armaan: While he’s safe to be around, though, he’s not safe to touch. He’s deeply aware of that. It’s that tragedy again, of someone who, at the forefront of his mind, believes he needs to distance himself from people. As frustrated as he is by having had to live that way … it’s still a mindset he defaults to.

This time, however, he had something to come back to. Someone worth taking the risk for.

Stephanie: What took him so long? He had to get his suit, and control of his powers, but he also seems to have gone through considerable self-doubt before returning to Jen: “I wasn’t sure that I should come back. Like this.” I guess he means he wasn’t sure Jen would want to date him once his powers returned and he had to stay in his containment suit, which could turn into a neat riff on disability politics, on how conventional nondisabled sex scenes don’t need to take place every time two people, at least one of whom has a disability, date, on how sex means what you want it to mean. … I mean, they could have had that conversation, but they don’t. They’re cute together. Kinda like Rogue and Gambit, who have faced just this relationship challenge again and again and again.

Armaan: Exactly who I was thinking of. In love but unable to touch is a fairly common romantic trope, but there is something I enjoyed about this one. I am not going to lie, I felt a mild amount of panic at the thought that Jack might not be able to eat again now that his powers are once more on the fritz — it brought him such joy. 

But while he doesn’t need to eat, it appears he still can. And Jen’s going to find every way to bring him joy within the constraints of their relationship. She’s no longer broken-hearted by the situation — the important thing is that Jack is there. And there’s both an eager determination and an easy confidence to Jen that they’re going to make this work. I absolutely love the note this ended on.

Last Minute Legal Notes

  • The sweater! What happened to the giant-heart sweater?
  • Bless Miyazawa for being able to draw joyful pride into a faceless android. 
  • I don’t care what his Hellfire Gala look was, Doombot is the most stylish Doom out there, as far as I’m concerned.

Stephanie Burt is Professor of English at Harvard. Her podcast about superhero role playing games is Team-Up Moves, with Fiona Hopkins; her latest book of poems is We Are Mermaids.  Her nose still hurts from that thing with the gate.