If you could wish away all the pain of heartbreak, would you? If you could let go of all those memories, the ones that seep in at night, that remind you of good times before it all turned sour, a poison pretending to be a salve, would you? If you could be numb to it all with a simple. . .quick. . .wish. . . would you?
Sometimes I think I would.
Cover by Meredith McClarenWritten by Kelly Thompson
Illustrated, Colored and Lettered by Meredith McClarenThe only way to avoid heartbreak is to be heartless . . .
In a moment of post-heartbreak weakness, Emma wishes her heart away and a mysterious stranger obliges. But emptiness is even worse than grief, and Emma sets out to collect the seven pieces of her heart, in a journey that forces her to face her own history and the cost of recapturing it!
Minor spoilers ahead. Thompson and McClaren’s “Heart in a Box” will do to you what it does to its main character, Emma: break your heart into pieces and then slowly reconstruct it, one painful piece at a time. Only a couple issues into “Jem and the Holograms” at the time, this is Kelly Thompson’s first original work. It doesn’t show. “Heart in a Box” is tightly written, accomplishing in 150-ish pages what would take another 30 issues and a tie-in miniseries. Not a single page is wasted and the story progresses at a breakneck page, adding a constant, low-level surge of adrenaline to already tense scenes.
This is a double-edged sword, however, as it doesn’t give Thompson the opportunity to develop deeply any of the side characters, such as Xan or Bob or Mae, or give the story the time to explore the greater implication of Bob’s business or the hearts Emma acquires in chapter one. Not exploring the greater mythos of Bob really doesn’t matter and the story is stronger for it being a plot device McGuffin rather than an over-explained system. However, the “extra hearts” point takes a backseat rather quickly to the main, driving hunt and it was something I continued to wonder about.
How did having these other feelings affect Emma? Did she feel the pull to return them? Did she ever find anyone? We don’t know and while I would not want the story to continue past where it ended, I would have loved to see a bit more of that explored at each stage.
But maybe I didn’t need to. Meredith McClaren goes above and beyond to channel Emma’s emotions and clearly telegraph her internal thoughts without the need for clunky captions or unnecessary dialog. That doesn’t mean there aren’t captions for her thoughts but when they’re around, they serve to heighten the impact of the scene and characterize Emma. Moreover, it’s a moody book and sometimes a bit of self-flagellatory thoughts are necessary.
McClaren does such a phenomenal job with the small emotions too. Take page 121 for example. It’s an eight page sequence focused entirely on Emma. Pete is off panel and represented only by his speech squares, which hang above Emma’s head, as if they’d fall onto her if she did not reply. Her position in each panel indicates her receptiveness to the question, though the answer is no almost every time; “Are you a figment of my imagination?” gets kind eyes while “Boyfriend?” gets a far away look, a flashback panel, and then, in an almost identical panel that now takes on a deeper sadness, a “no.” There’s even the subtle change in lighting to indicate that the sun is beginning its descent.
Moreover, her design choices are striking and memorable but simple, assisted by a color palette that highlights the digital nature of the comic but keeps the verisimilitude of the world. Her lettering is much the same way. You don’t see square, borderless boxes and jumpy tails often, almost as if they’re pushing the environment out of the way to come through. In another comic, this style might be highly jarring or ill-fitting but here, it has the right mix of sharp and fuzzy, fitting for a book about the jagged edges of what most media portrays as smooth.
“Heart in a Box” gets the messy, terrifying nature of relationships, in all their forms. Friendships, new romantic, old toxic romance, animal/human, parent/child, they’re all explored with precise care. They don’t all end happily, with forgiveness or easy answers. Crotchety old men die almost alone because of their past mistakes, and they deserve it, but you still weep for what was lost because the damage he caused was so great, not even him being on death’s door could repair it. A dangerous hope for an old flame remains, thanks to half-hearted attempts to extinguish, and all you can do is watch with the knowledge that it will cause more burns before it can be put out for good.
Thompson and McClaren’s tale of heartbreak and healing is painfully aware of reality and, even though it is an unreal situation, conveys that in a short, impactful book. You will recognize yourself in the story more than once and even when you don’t, it will resonate deep in your chest, as if a little piece of Emma’s heart was gifted to you, the reader, just by being there when she gave it away.
