In mainstream comics, the pain and suffering of non-protagonists is typically leveraged to provide motivation for our costumed heroes. This kind of utilitarian suffering is the realm of fridging and tragic origins. The suffering of inferiors is often mined for fuel to power character development and plot. “Avengers” #280 steps over this convention. It focuses tightly on the suffering of Jarvis (the Avengers’ longtime butler) and shows us how pain and trauma affect Jarvis himself.
This story takes place in the narrow gap between Roger Stern’s famous Under Siege arc and his bombastic Assault on Olympus story. The volume of masterfully placed plot points and deeply personal dramatic action in both of those arcs is almost overwhelming. Those stories would be exhausting if they weren’t done so well. Avengers #280 acts as a much-needed long reflective breath between two epic sprints.
In the Under Siege story, Jarvis was savagely beaten to the point of hospitalization and near-death by Mr. Hyde. This issue watches Jarvis reflect on that attack, his entire time with the team, and then decide if he does or does not want to continue on in his service to the Avengers. The issue is written by Bob Harras with pencils by Bob Hall, inks by Kyle Baker, colors by Christie “Max” Scheele, and letters by Janice Chiang.
The majority of the issue takes place in flashback scenes that play from Jarvis’ memory. Harras uses these scenes to add context and richness to the work of previous “Avengers” creators. We get to witness Captain America struggle with his leadership for a young Avengers team and reach out to Jarvis for advice and friendship. I would never have guessed it before reading this issue, but it turns out that watching Jarvis and Vision bond over their shared love of Elizabethan poetry is really entertaining. Jarvis also spends a lot of time dwelling on the sadder aspects of Avengers history. This somber approach to his recollection means that as Jarvis recalls moments of team interaction, his trauma intermingles with our nostalgia. Such alchemy can transform the reader’s memories of Cap’s Kooky Quartet from fond to bittersweet. It’s a unique and impressive storytelling accomplishment.
Hall and Baker’s linework is powerful and full of humanity but also dream-like and hazy. The decision to leave out extraneous detail when possible strongly evokes the feeling of a partially faded memory where only the essential people and objects remain. The most striking element of the artwork in “Avengers” #280 are the color choices made by Scheele. Her most dramatic choice comes in the panels where Jarvis’ mind flashes harshly to his brutal recent encounter with Mr. Hyde. These panels are all bathed in violent shades of red and pink, driving home the cutting trauma that these memories left inside Jarvis’ mind. But Scheele’s mastery is visible well beyond these dramatic Mr. Hyde panels. The muted landscape she curates for Jarvis’ memories is the perfect canvas for the pop-art costumes of heroes and villains to splash across. And the powerful teal backgrounds that back Jarvis in his crucial moments of decision at the end of the issue center the reader on the clear decisive heroism of our faithful protagonist.
I’ve written before in this column about the optimism that is core to the true nature of the Avengers. Here, Jarvis makes this essential optimism explicit, “But isn’t that what the Avengers truly symbolize? That despite all the odds to the contrary… there is hope for all of us. Hope that the very best of humanity will surmount all obstacles.” Jarvis draws inspiration from the Avengers like a fan of the comics would. Like I do. Watching a superhero be super heroic can definitely be inspiring. When done well, it can move readers to seek out the better angels of our nature. But it’s even more directly moving to watch Jarvis persevere. He is a regular man who does regular self-sacrificing things in service of a good beyond himself. This human example of optimistically laying down one’s life makes “Avengers” #280 timelessly inspiring.
