JC Lee, the sole child of Marvel Comics icon Stan Lee, recently reached out to a medium in Santa Barbara in hopes of connecting with her late parents. Throughout her life, JC viewed Stan and Joan Lee not only as parents but as her closest friends, supporters who always believed in her potential. Her father, renowned for co-creating legendary superheroes like Spider-Man, the Hulk, and the X-Men, often referred to her as his “greatest creation.” However, since her father’s passing in 2018 and her mother’s death a year prior, JC’s ambitions to honor her father’s legacy and pursue her own artistic endeavors have been hindered. After six years filled with protracted legal disputes over her father’s name and likeness, progress on her personal projects—a new superhero franchise, an art career, and a Broadway musical about her father’s life—had been frustratingly slow.
Now in her mid-70s, JC sought guidance from her parents more than ever, even if it required a tenuous connection to the afterlife. According to JC, she felt her mother’s presence in the room, but it was her father’s voice that resonated most clearly: “Forgive me for the mess I’ve left you.” She interpreted this as a nod to the troubled final years of his life when a small group around him faced accusations of isolating him and mismanaging his finances. Stan’s message to her was reassuring: “You are creative, you matter. Just do it.” Remembering this moment brings JC to tears; it highlights the dynamic relationship she shared with her father—a prolific creator who built a comic book empire urging his daughter to find her own voice. This blend of encouragement and expectation has always been both a privilege and a heavy burden for her.
JC had dabbled in modeling and acting pursuits, but she struggled to achieve significant success.
As she matured, JC found herself at a crossroads. “I was supposed to be a debutante,” she reflects. “But I had two passionate parents.” Though she enrolled at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, she left after a year. An apartment was arranged for her just across the hall from her parents, with Stan once securing her a brief position as a receptionist at Marvel, which only lasted a few months. “We didn’t know what to say to her,” recalls Roy Thomas, a Marvel writer and later editor. “She was the boss’s daughter, so you kind of felt cautious about your words.” Thomas felt Stan was trying to keep her occupied.
Eventually, JC relocated to London, embracing the vibrant glam culture of the 1970s Kings Road, reminiscent of sci-fi icon Barbarella. She endeavored to penetrate the film industry, taking up a role as a personal assistant to actor Max Wall on Terry Gilliam’s “Jabberwocky,” and occasionally photographing celebrities for a magazine founded by her father.
By the 1980s, the family had moved to Los Angeles, with Stan transforming from a poor New Yorker into the publisher of Marvel Comics and stepping into Hollywood’s spotlight. Thomas recounts visiting the Lees and being taken aback by Stan suddenly roller-skating across their elegant marble floors. As JC entered her 30s, she continued to reap the benefits of her father’s hard work. One of her close confidants was celebrity photographer Harry Langdon, who understood the complications of having a renowned parent. “Stan wanted her to be creative,” he notes.
However, JC was hesitant to let go of her creations, which she regarded as deeply personal. According to Langdon, she once sold a piece for $75,000 but later regretted the sale and asked for it back, expressing her longing for her artwork. While Stan was generally a dedicated family man, he often expressed frustration over JC’s expenditures. He even commented to Rolling Stone in 1971, “I don’t think my daughter has ever read a comic book in her life, and I doubt my wife has. They get very bored if I even discuss the subject. All they want is the paycheck every week.”
Feeling stifled by her dependency on her father, JC reflected, “No one wanted me to work. I think I was their pet.” In a late 1980s home video, she voiced her desires to have a more substantial role at Marvel, saying, “I wouldn’t mind helping contribute.” Stan’s response, however, was a practical suggestion: “The only way you can help contribute is to stop spending so much money. That would be the greatest contribution.”
