
I used to write about comicbooks online. I
guess I still do as evidenced by you reading these words about comicbooks on a
website. What I meant was: I used to write about comicbooks online where lots
of people would see and, hopefully, read what I wrote. While it’s turned into
more of a generic popculture site full of listicles and random dives into
history and trivia care of my friend Brian Cronin, CBR (Comic Book Resources)
was once the most well known and trafficked site in comics. And I wrote for it
in a few ways. Firstly, I had free reign to do as I wish at a sub-blog called
Comics Should be Good (thanks to the aforementioned Mr. Cronin) where my main
two ongoing pieces of writing were something called the Reread Reviews where I
reread stuff and wrote about it, and a weekly bit of nonsense called Random
Thoughts! where I (as you can guess), wrote down my literal random thoughts any
given week. After a year or so, I got on as a reviewer for the main site and
spent the next few years writing four to seven reviews every week of new
comics. Most folks stopped at the star ratings posted at the time, but,
sometimes, they’d actually read what I wrote and, even rarer, they’d let me
know what they thought about my review. This was mostly well intentioned
feedback, to be honest. People genuinely wanting to engage with what I wrote to
agree, disagree, or just tell me I’m dumb. The comment I’d sometimes get there
and in other places that always bugged me was when someone would respond with
“That’s just your opinion.”
Yes. And?
It was all my opinion. Virtually everything
I’ve ever written about comicbooks online has been exclusively and entirely my
opinion at that moment. Maybe with a few facts sprinkled in (like who wrote or
drew the comic, or the literal plot), but all in service of my opinion. Because
that’s what this is about: my opinion, my interpretation, my translation. You come here to get my
version of the work, how it hit me, what I think of it, how I view it, my
insights, my thoughts... my opinion. As I’ve prepared for this series of
writings, where I’ll be looking at The
Immortal Thor issue by issue every Thursday, I’ve been thinking a lot about
the idea of translation and interpretation. The
Immortal Thor is a comicbook very much concerned with that idea. About
point of view and meaning and who tells the story and why.
Let
the show begin.
The
Immortal Thor #1 opens, as all issues of the series
do, with an epigraph. Most of them are attributed to coming from some part of The Elder Eddas of Saemund Sigfusson or,
as my copy is titled, The Poetic Edda
(Oxford World’s Classics edition translated by Carolyne Larrington). This is in
contrast/complement to The Young Eddas
by Snorri Sturluson or, as my copy is titled, The Prose Edda (Penguin Classics edition translated by Jesse Byock).
These two volumes make up the source for a large amount of the Norse mythology
by which we get Thor, Loki, Odin, and Asgard. The Marvel Comics version is
inspired by these stories, sometimes quite literally and mostly only through
the use of broad ideas. It’s an interpretation, a translation...
The epigraph to The Immortal Thor #1 comes from The
Elder Eddas:
He is sated with
the last breath of dying men.
The god’s seat he
with red gore defiles.
Swart is the
sunshine then for summers after.
All weather turns
to storm.
Understand ye
yet, or what?
The text here is meant to relate to the
coming of Toranos, the elder storm god from Utgard; the Utgard-Thor, as it
were. He kills, he brings destruction to New York, which is on Earth, one of
Thor’s homes. He blots out the sun, he brings the storm, and Thor sees that
there are larger gods. That’s how it seems to relate to this issue. Pretty easy
to see (Al Ewing starts us off with kid gloves) and understand. But, this is,
of course, not what this text actually means. It may surprise you to learn, but
The Elder Eddas do not tell the story
of the Utgard gods coming to destroy the Aesir and the Earth. It may surprise
you to learn that there are no ‘Utgard gods’ in so many words. It may surprise
you to learn that my copy of The Poetic
Edda has a slightly different text:
It gluts itself
on doomed men’s lives,
reddens the gods’
dwellings with crimson blood;
sunshine becomes
black all the next summers,
weather all
vicious––do you want to know more: and what?
Same basic idea, yet different. ‘Gluts’ is
not ‘sated;’ ‘doomed’ is not ‘dying;’ ‘reddens’ is not ‘defiled;’ ‘crimson
blood’ is not ‘gore;’ ‘black’ is not ‘swart;’ ‘vicious’ is not ‘storm;’ ‘do you
want to know more; and what?’ is not ‘understand ye yet, or what?’ It’s all
translation, interpretation, read and thought upon, and put to paper with a
specific intention and audience. Is one better? More accurate? Do you know
which?
It’s from the first text in The Poetic Edda, titled “The Seeress’s
Prophecy” in my edition and is the words of a seeress telling Odin the history
of the world before the gods and, then, into the future of Ragnarok and beyond.
It’s a quick summation of the broad strokes of the entire story of the Aesir
and the world. Other stories in The
Poetic Edda fill in details and the same into The Prose Edda. You can ignore most of the differences as, while
they have different meanings (synonyms are, of course, no synonymous), the
general idea is the same throughout the passage. What caught my attention was
the difference in the final line, as Ewing repeats it at various times during
the run of The Immortal Thor and, in
fact, before the run, uses a variation.
The story of The Immortal Thor actually begins in Thor annual #1 from the previous volume of the comicbook with a
five-page prologue done with the full team of Al Ewing, Martín Cóccolo, Matthew
Wilson, and Joe Sabino that begins with the line that’s also the title of the
story: “Would you know more?” That’s very close to the final line of the
translation of the epigraph from The
Poetic Edda “do you want to know more: and what?” and a bit of a jump from
Ewing’s Elder Eddas line “Understand
ye yet, or what?” Put them next to one another and it’s easy to see the
difference...
“Would you know more?” is a question posed
somewhat gently. It’s an invitation almost, teasing you into stepping deeper to
gain knowledge. It places the emphasis on the action and the taking of said
action to learn more, even if it’s turning a page – or buying the first issue
of a new series.
“Understand ye yet, or what?” is a question
posed somewhat condescendingly. There’s a sneer behind it. Maybe a playful one.
Maybe not. It’s a challenge for you to grasp the meaning of what you’ve already
learned. It’s inward-looking, contemplative. It suggests a riddle to be solved.
“Do you want to know more: and what?” is a
question posed somewhat directly. It fits with what we know of “The Seeress’s
Prophecy” where the seeress is telling Odin of what she sees with his questions
directing her focus. It’s not just about gaining more knowledge, it’s about
specific knowledge. Ask and you shall receive.
The second is where Ewing chooses to rest
his rhetoric, even if he uses the first to first entice us all. I don’t know
what edition(s) of the Edda he’s
drawing upon. I don’t know if he knew the third version was available, the one
that walks the middle ground between the two. You may want to get yourself a
copy of “The Seeress’s Prophecy” as it is the broader structure of these 25
issues. Thor learning about and dealing with what came before the beginning of
the Aesir and the world as he knows it... forever moving closer and closer to
his personal Ragnarok... and, then, the world after Ragnarok...
“The stories have their patterns. The Gods have their Ragnarok. Even Thor has a Black Winter
hanging over him.”
*
I would direct you at this time to my first piece on this issue, made available on this very blog.
*
As I didn’t discuss what’s up with Loki two
years ago, let’s begin there. I’m not always a good or careful reader. I miss a
lot. It’s one of the reasons why I write – to figure things out. It’s, as I
said, a form of translation. Often, when I’m writing about something, I’m
thinking it through in real time, figuring it out, letting all of this
information that sits in the back of my head, just below the surface, to come
out in a, hopefully, organised manner. Which is to say, I’m not convinced that
I knew Loki is the narrator right away. Embarrassing, eh?
What puts the three quotes I discussed into
a slightly different light. Loki would phrase that line in a manner that is
teasing and somewhat condescending. It’s a game, a trick. A story with a
purpose. As we’ll see in future issues, Loki the Skald is also not above
altering the story to suit their needs, some of which seems to be laid out in
this issue. Much of what proceeds from this issue is Loki pushing and prodding
Thor in various directions, seemingly for his own good, even if in the moment
it does not appear that way. Rereading this issue in light of the entire
25-issue series and knowing where things go, particularly with the Bifrost, the
scene where Loki remakes the Rainbow Bridge seemed of heightened importance.
One bit of Loki’s narration caught my eye:
“What if were free? / All of us. Gods and mortals. Me and you. / What couldn’t we do, on the day all our
cages open? What would that look
like? Tell me, if you can. / What does the bridge to anywhere look like?”
Once upon a time, Loki sought freedom.
Freedom from himself, from his past, from the story that hung around him like
an albatross. And he did the most diabolical things to break free from that
story, moving past the God of Lies, becoming the God of Stories, free to write
their future as they see fit. They first show up in this issue by breaking free
from the previously defined role of ruler of Jotunheim, declaring themselves as
the official Skald of Asgard, and offering to repair the Bifrost that Thor
broke while Hulked out during the previous volume of the title. A new story to
tell... And this comes after Thor seemingly changes his story in the annual
short by returning to his former garb and restoring Mjolnir to its previous
state. These are normal events in superhero comicbooks when a new creative team
relaunches a title, so they don’t seem out of place and, yet...
In retrospect, it’s apparent that Loki not
only sets the story into motion, they explain a possible motive. Having
obtained their freedom, do they now see the bars that cage everyone else? Do
they look upon the trapped with pity and seek to free them all? Thor broke the
cycle of Ragnarok once, but, lurking out there are older gods whose own cycles
still cage the Ten Realms. So, why not turn the wheel a little and push Thor in
the direction of breaking another cycle?
At the end of the issue, Utgard-Loki
mentions the various characters that use the Utgard-gods as talismans and act
as ‘understudies’ to these ancient beings, positing them as greater, more
powerful, more true versions of the ideas that came after them. But, let me ask
you: in our current world, what versions of Thor and Loki hold the most sway?
Not the versions that appear in the Eddas, not even the versions that appear in
the comics. No, that honour belongs to the versions portrayed by Chris
Hemsworth and Tom Hiddleston on screen. What came first is not necessarily what
matters most, not with stories. You can see the influences the works of Kirby
and Simonson had on Thor: Ragnarok if
you know what you’re looking for, but there’s no doubt that the majority of
people just saw the movie and nothing more.
Utgard-Loki thinks being first means being
more powerful. This is a story about influence and translation and that what
comes later can be a more potent story. And that’s what matters most here: the
story. The irony is twofold in that Utgard-Loki cannot see that they are a part
of the story and bound by its rules... For, as much as Loki wishes to free
everyone, they first cage them in the story. Bound by words and pictures,
panels and word balloons... In becoming the narrator, the Skald, Loki becomes
the new jailer. It is them who rebuilds the bridge to Utgard, them who turns
the wheel...
*
Ever week, I’ll
discuss the next issue of The Immortal
Thor along with another work of some kind (which was the short story in Thor annual #1 here), maybe also dive
into the epigraphs a bit. We’ve got 25 weeks of this ahead of us. Next week, in
addition to The Immortal Thor #2,
I’ll be discussing, in some manner, Thor
(1998) #1-12. That’s the first year of the Dan Jurgens/John Romita, Jr. run.