The Immortal Thorsday Thoughts 07

The Prose Edda. The Younger Eddas. Thor #272. The Immortal Thor #6-7.

Call your source what you will, they all contain the same tale, but none are the same. Thor and Loki (and others) are travelling and find themself in a land where everything is giant. They seek shelter in a cave that turns out to be the glove of a giant who calls himself Skrymir. He is journeying back to his home, Utgard, and offers to let the two tiny gods travel with him. When he goes to nap, he tells them that they can eat whatever they want in his food pouch, which is tied with a loose knot. However, Thor is unable to loosen it despite his great strength and, in a rage, smashes his weapon upon Skrymir’s sleeping head. However, Skrymir wakes up and barely notices the blow. He travels on ahead, taking such giant strides. When Thor and Loki eventually reach Utgard, they are confronted by the lord of the castle, Utgard/Utgarda-Loki/Utgard-Loki, who, in exchange for their presence, says that they must prove themselves. In a series of trials, Loki loses at an eating contest, Thor is unable to empty a drinking horn, someone loses in a foot race, Thor is bested by the strength of an elderly woman, and Thor is unable to lift a cat up off the floor. In the end, Utgard-Loki reveals that he is Skrymir and that every test was a trick: Loki was competing against fire in the eating contest, the other end of the drinking horn was connected to the sea, the race was against their own thoughts which always went far ahead, Thor wrestled with old age, and the cat was actually the Midgard Serpent. In fact, even the difficulties with Skrymir were tricks: Thor actually smashed a mountain in two, and the food pouch was fastened with something stronger than a loose rope. Having had his fun, Utgard-Loki and Utgard disappear, leaving Thor and Loki to go on their way.

That’s roughly the story that each of these works tell. The shape is the same, the details differ.

When you put Thor #272 next to The Immortal Thor #6-7, there is actually very little overlap. I couldn’t find even a single panel where Al Ewing and Martín Cóccolo directly duplicated the work of Roy Thomas and John Buscema. Only Skrymir and Logi (the eater/fire) look similar in both versions, every other character/locale looks a little different. The flows of the stories are different, obviously drawn out a bit in the two-issue version, even with the various asides from Thor and Loki to comment upon the story. But, really, it’s only the broad shape of the story that remains the same, like both are following the same plot summary/bullet points, but each do it their way.

The first reason for this is the most obvious: there was 46 years between the comics. Sensibilities have changed, so directly recreating Thor #272 would be completely out of step with comics as they are today. Moreover, the comic already exists, so why recreate it directly? But, many comics recreate/reference old comics by doing a modern version of certain panels/moments where part of the fun is in dropping something old into something new. Like I said, I couldn’t find even a single panel that overlapped. At no point does Ewing use even a single line of dialogue directly, nor does Cóccolo copy the staging of a panel. Yet, in both issues, Dario Agger is seen reading Thor #272 with the Enchantress and Skurge looking over his shoulder. The cover of his version is identical to the one published in 1978 in our world, presumably in his as well. After all, he bought the fictional Marvel Comics that exists in the Marvel Universe and, of all of the comics from our world that could exist in theirs in roughly the same form, this issue would be it, based on a story from Norse mythology. The version that Agger reads, though, is the one that we’re reading... in The Immortal Thor #6-7. As I said last week, this is a commentary on the nature of the retcon in comics. The new replaces the old in official continuity. Now that we have The Immortal Thor’s telling of the tale, what use is Thor #272? And what do the changes mean going forward (and backward)?

More than that, the new version isn’t what happened any more than the old version was. Here, it’s a story that Loki (in the form of Thor’s enemy) tells Thor; there, it was a story that Thor told some children. In The Prose Edda, it’s a story that three forms of Odin (High, Just-As-High, and Third) tell Gangleri (King Gylfi in disguise while journeying, much as Odin changed his name while doing the same) when he visits their court. This isn’t fact or history, it’s always a story told. 272 is Thor telling a story of when he was small and overmatched to some children to show them that he understands what it’s like to stand up to a strong bully. In The Immortal Thor, Loki is repositioning the story to no longer be the Utgard of mythology (the outer land), but the new Utgard of this comicbook. Where Utgard-Loki isn’t simply a powerful trickster whose name is meant to echo that of Loki, but an archetypal god upon whom Loki is based/stems. As we know from the first and final issues of The Immortal Thor, Loki is the one that brings the Utgard gods back (or gives Gaea the means/opportunity) only to take their access away, basically severing the links between Utgard-Asgard-Midgard, as part of a larger plan to free everyone (whatever that specifically means). These issues are a crucial step in this specific story spell wherein these Utgard gods are retconned into the history of Thor and Asgard (as is Lukki... once we’ve caught up with him).

That’s the obvious thing about the story of the Utgard gods, yet something that most readers gloss over: they’re a retcon. Ewing is intricate and evasive in how he pulls it off. Sometimes specific, sometimes vague, usually couched in ideas that superhero comicbook readers are familiar with (the idea of archetypal versions of existing characters creating a broader mythology). Basically, every origin can be mined for more detail, more depth, more story. Skim the letter columns of these early issues as readers toss out theories for the Utgard gods and Ewing never confirms, never denies, always acknowledges as a possibility. Are they the same gods in the shadows from Ragnarok who would elevate Thor if he doesn’t break the cycle? Mmmmmmmmmmmaybe! And, here, Ewing, being the clever, funny guy that he is, takes a Roy Thomas-penned comic and retcons it to be a different story for his own purposes as if Roy the Boy isn’t the Original Retcon King. Oh ho ho.

A retcon here isn’t just a retcon. Story magic acting upon beings that live inside a story makes it history. The Utgard gods weren’t until they were and, then, they always were. “THE STORY’S CHANGING AS I READ IT,” Dario says in issue six. That’s how it works. You can’t unread what you’ve read, unsee what you’ve seen. You can love it, hate it, wish you’d never read it, but, once you have, the past has changed. You read The Immortal Thor #6 and 7 and, then, you go back and reread Thor #272 and who is Utgard-Loki in that comicbook from 1978 by Roy Thomas and John Buscema? Can you read it as you once did? 

Utgarda-Loki answered, “That would be an accomplishment, if you are up to it, and feats such as that will be put to the test.” (The Prose Edda by Snorri Sturluson, trans. Jesse Byock, pg. 58)

*

“That will indeed be a feat,” said Utgard-Loki, “If thou performest what thou promisest, and it shall be tried forthwith.” – From Thor’s Adventures on His Journey to the Land of the Giants, The Younger Eddas of Snorre Sturleson

The Immortal Thor #7 is the final issue Martín Cóccolo draws as the regular artist on the title (he would return for a page in issue 19). In this issue and the previous, he attempts to hold his own by drawing the same story originally drawn by John Buscema. While Al Ewing can have his fun by playing with Roy Thomas’s retelling of a story from The Prose Edda, inviting direct comparison with one of the comicbook artist greats is no small task. Buscema is, now, more well-remembered for his work on the likes of The Avengers and various Conan comics, his time on Thor falling in that somewhat hazy void between the giants of the title, Kirby and Simonson. While he’s discussed in positive terms, Buscema isn’t usually put at the same level as a Kirby or Ditko, maybe not even a John Romita. He seems to be regarded as a talented artist, but also just ‘there’ throughout a large period of Marvel. That strong company artist whose look is so associated with the house style of the company for the period of his peak. Which, to me, is actually a huge compliment – a sign of how great he was that the look of his art defines the look of the entire publisher to a certain extent.

Cóccolo’s style is very much of the current Marvel time. Coming from Uruguay (at least according to the flag in his social media bios), he’s part of the push from the company under Akira to look beyond the America/UK for artists. While it’s resulted in artists from all over the world working for the company, it’s also bred its own sort of house style, one very much influenced by Stuart Immonen’s art. Similar line work, similar visual looks, each a bit different, but all sort of orbiting that artistic sun. Clear, strong lines without a lot of unnecessary details ala the Image founders. Without seeing the original line art, it’s hard to tell how much of the depth we see is intended and how much comes from Matthew Wilson’s colour choices. This is an underrated element of modern comics art that wasn’t as available to artists like Buscema, where the colourist will use different shades and gradients to add another layer of depth to the art. Wilson’s work with Cóccolo really impressed me during my recent reread and was in a nice groove by this point, having really hit their collaborative stride around issue three/four-ish.

But, to get back to Thor #272 and The Immortal Thor #6-7 specifically, just as the writing’s purposes are different in the old and new, so too is the art. As Thomas was trying to adapt a story from The Prose Edda using Marvel’s Thor and Loki, Buscema was trying to present that story in a direct, literal manner. It was meant to be visually interesting, but also clear, following that old adage that you should be able to follow along even if you don’t read the words. Aside from the opening splash, no page contains more than four panels, most in the 5-6 range, and almost always in a grid with no stacking. Cóccolo, on the other hand, over the course of two issues, sits mostly in the 3-5 panels per page with a lot more variance in layouts. He only reaches six panels twice and a single page that is eight equal size panels 2x4 for a very specific effect. He’s also managing the various versions of Thor and Loki that switch throughout the story from tellers to parts of the story-within-the-story. Even the ability to go full bleed on the art gives Cóccolo so much more space.

Space is the word that jumps out when I try to point to the biggest difference. Cóccolo’s art seems to have more space than Buscema’s. Less restrictions from grid layouts, from the bleed around the pages, from the idea that each panel must be full. Buscema fills his panels to the brink, adding as much extra detail as he can in the background, which limits the sense of scale at play in the story. Yet, there’s something more definitive and solid about Buscema’s art. Cóccolo’s has a sense of fluffy playfulness to it that ties into Loki’s storytelling, but also detracts from the heft of it. The feeling of danger is palpable in Buscema’s art, lending a bit of that sword and sorcery fantasy approach to some of the scenes that show why he was so at home drawing Conan.

As much as I like, in theory, Alex Ross’s design of Utgard-Loki, it drags issue seven down visually. There’s something goofy about the design that makes the character hard to take seriously as a threat. Which, to be fair, can work to the advantage of the story where his actions can shock/surprise given the look of the character; here, instead of being large and impressive, like the Utgard-Loki in 272, he seems out of place. He telegraphs the trickery. The moment where Thor attempts to lift the cat, for example, and it stretches and bends before becoming the Midgard Serpent comes off as more Seussian than threatening. The new version lacks danger, I guess.

The one spot where Cóccolo uses a layout of more than six panels is the page near the end where Loki reveals the various tricks of Skrymir/Utgard-Loki and it’s done in a manner that seems a little reminiscent of Jim Starlin. Eight panels, each dedicated to one trick, any human-like figures being heads that take up the entire panel. It’s an interesting approach that has letterer Joe Sabino trying his best to place each panel’s word balloon as far off to the side as possible to maintain the effect. Despite that, it shows a bit of the limitations of this particular approach. As much as Cóccolo treats each page as its own visual unit, using wildly different layouts or repeating panels, it seems to be trying to do so with the same goal as Buscema’s art. Less experimentation to push limits, but visual interest while maintaining clarity. It’s like he’s working within the box like Buscema, only the box is now bigger.

*

There’s one last element of this retelling that I want to ramble on about that struck my interest. In The Prose Edda, Thor and Loki travel specifically into “East Giant Land.” In Thor #272, they are simply lost and find themselves in a strange land. In The Immortal Thor #6, they follow the black bridge that leads to Utgard (not aware that that is where it leads). They travel through the dark forest and cross through the unlocked gates that open on their own as they approach. This runs contrary to what we’re told about Utgard, a realm that Utgard-Loki, Toranos, and others fled to in order to not die at the hands of Atum. The gates were locked and Gaea was given the key. This happened well before Asgard’s time... So, how were Thor and Loki able to enter Utgard?

As always, there’s the simple and easy answer: because that’s how Loki’s story goes. However, Loki’s story is designed to not only relate what happened, but to create a new sort of history through his Skald Magic. It takes the story that Thor told those children back in issue 272 and repurposes it, transforms it, recasts these Utgard gods in the place of that Skrymir and Utgard (as he’s only called that in issue 272). Perhaps, the story Thor told in issue 272 was never about this Utgard-Loki at all; perhaps, it was about another so-called copy that “USE OUR NAMES AS TALISMANS,” as Utgard-Loki said in The Immortal Thor #1. Or, perhaps, it was always just a story told by humans that never actually happened to Thor that, through retelling and being written down, somehow got imprinted onto him and is repurposed by Loki... The shift from Utgard to Utgard-Loki for the name of the lord of Utgardhall/Utgard is telling, is it not? Even if it does call back to The Prose Edda.

Loki is very clear, in his telling, to cast Thor as the one that’s eager to cross the bridge and enter the gates, while Loki warns him the entire time. It becomes less like Loki’s purpose to place the Utgard gods into their shared history and more like their collision was Thor’s doing. That every step towards his doom was his own choice, not the manipulation of Loki. It also reminds us that most of The Immortal Thor is narrated by Loki. Just as this story is bent to his purpose, how too are the comics we’re reading?

Next week, we’ll dive into further retconning with The Immortal Thor #8 and a story from Thor annual #10.

The Immortal Thorsday Thoughts 06

Now, don’t get me wrong, I like a good retcon as much as the next guy...

But, let’s go back to the original Marvel Comics Thor retcon, one that launched a thousand retcons and revisions for a character whose entire existence is a revision and retelling, taking some of what was already there, changing it, adding more, and creating something new. Thor, the mythological Norse god of thunder, upon whom Jack and Stan based their idea for a new superhero and, upon whose stories, those stories would draw upon in varying degrees. It’s all a version of Loki’s warning to Thor of “FOR A TALE RETOLD MAY NOT GO AS YOU REMEMBER...” If you are knowledgeable of the Eddas and their stories, you may recognise bits and pieces of them in Thor comicbooks, particularly in the Kirby-driven “Tales of Asgard” backup stories wherein he looked to Norse mythology for inspiration – yet told still through the filter of “Marvel Comics’ Thor.” This sort of revision in retelling is a bit of what I’m talking about and, on a large enough scale, it effectively acts as a retcon by overriding and replacing the original stories within the collective minds of the masses, but it’s not the sort of retcon I’m referring to.

No, we need to go to Thor #159 for the first major retcon of “Marvel Comics’ Thor.” Coming after an issue that reprinted the first Thor story from Journey into Mystery #83 within some framing pages, issue 159 is titled “The Answer at Last!” and seeks to handle the underlying problem of the series of Donald Blake. Originally, these comicbooks were based around the idea that a weak man with an injured leg could transform into a powerful god simply by smacking his walking stick on the ground. A typical “ordinary becomes extraordinary” sort of story that Marvel’s 1960s heroes tended to be based around. However, over time, Blake’s importance to the series waned as it became obvious that a big part of Thor’s appeal were places like Asgard and space where Blake wouldn’t work as a character, but could be used to set Thor apart. After all, while it’s fun to see Thor stop a bank robbery from time to time, that’s something that any of Marvel’s heroes could do. Now, Thor fighting trolls and giants as they storm the gates of Asgard? That’s something unique to Thor.

Heading into this issue, Blake/Thor had begun to question the nature of their joint existence. How can Blake become the real Thor? And, if that’s the case, what about Thor’s life before Blake? Journeying to Asgard, he confronts Odin for the truth and the All-Father’s ensuing tale is one fairly well known to readers by this point: using a couple of examples, Odin tells Thor of a time when he was brash and arrogant, lacking in humility. Seeing that his son needed to learn humility in order to wield his mighty power with wisdom and grace, he created a human form on Earth and put Thor’s spirit into it, giving life to Donald Blake just as he was to begin medical school. In essence, Blake is Thor and has always been just Thor with all elements that are Blake merely a bit of magic worked by Odin to his goals.

This issue is a crucial moment in the history of Thor, not just for the specific revelation it provides – but for the endless after effects that would stem from it. The answer that Odin gives of creating Blake as a magical shell for Thor to live in and learn humility is the retcon that launched a thousand retcons when it comes to Thor. A sea of answers to questions no one asked. Soon, it would be Keith Kincaid was the human on which Odin patterned the idea of Blake. And, then, eventually, Blake was actually a real person. Or was he? Was Odin’s magic so strong that it basically willed into existence a being that could not be undone? What about the wisdom of this plan in the first place? And what about when Blake becomes no longer needed? So many – so many – future stories hinge upon this single issue. This “retroactive continuity” solution to the issue of Thor and Blake’s shared relationship is like a scab that no one will stop picking at. The effects of it are felt right up into The Immortal Thor #25.

A single moment that directly affects all that follows, while altering all that came before, that’s what a retcon is. That’s the fire that Al Ewing plays with in The Immortal Thor #6 as he retells Thor #272 and uses Loki as his tool to change it, retroactively altering the events of that comic. When Dario Agger refers to the comic changing in front of this eyes, it’s a literal application of what a retcon does. After issues six and seven of The Immortal Thor, how many will read Thor #272 without the influence of Ewing’s changes? How many will even go back and read the issue? At the end of this issue, it’s revealed that Dario is literally holding a copy of that issue, presumably published through the Marvel of the Marvel Universe.

Of course, if you’ve read Thor #272, you’ll know that it’s actually a story told by Thor to a group of kids to illustrate a point. Much like this retelling of the story is from the perspective of Loki and is told in a manner that reflects their memories – and their intent – that original issue is based within the memories of Thor and the intention he holds in telling to those kids. Yet, intent doesn’t matter, except as explanation. What was the intention of Jack Kirby when he conceived of Thor #159? To provide an entertaining comic? To address a problem posed to him by either his own musing, or Stan Lee, or, maybe even, a reader? Does that intent matter when you look at everything that followed that issue’s revelation about the true origin of Donald Blake? Is that intent still there when the story is retold in a movie? When it exists in the collective memories of the readers/viewers?

That’s the fire that Ewing plays with in this issue as he, through Loki, retcons Thor #272 over the course of two issues of The Immortal Thor, not with anything so big and sweeping as the ‘true’ origin of Donald Blake, but with subtle, small changes, many rooted in The Prose Edda where this story is also told. But, what questions will it raise? What scabs left to be picked?

Think of this as an introduction to next week where I will get into The Immortal Thor #7 (and issue six as well), Thor #272, and the original story contained in The Prose Edda.

The Immortal Thorsday Thoughts 05

Last time on The Immortal Thorsday Thoughts: Dig into it and there is actually very little in common between the two [versions of the Thor Corps] [...] Why reuse the name at all? Aside from the commonality of a collection of Thors (and the presence of Beta Ray Bill), the original Thor Corps and this version are practically opposites on every level. Why would Thor specifically call the group that name? And, now, the continuation...

In Thor Corps #4, the main antagonist, Demonstaff, is defeated not through the strength of two Mjolnirs, a Stormbreaker, and a Thunderstrike, but through regaining his lost humanity. Demonstaff was a scientist whose obsession nearly drove his wife away prior to an accident that transformed him into a being of dimensional energy that he tried to shape and cage to look human. The thrust of the story is him trying to destroy all alternate realities into a single version, while also taking revenge on his wife, who he thought caused the accident. He’s finally defeated when, first Dargo Ktor, the future Thor, resists every temptation Demonstaff can put in front of him in order to get his own wife back from the villain and, then, Demonstaff’s wife goes to him and gets him to both believe that she never did anything to harm him, and to finally see that this path was his own making. He ultimately regains his humanity and the two are sent to a limbo-esque dimension as punishment for his crimes (she willingly goes with him). Basically, the Thor Corps wins through love and empathy and just giving a shit about others.

And how exactly does Thor defeat Toranos in The Immortal Thor #5? He makes him feel love and empathy and give a shit about others.

Beyond its echo back into a previous version of the Thor Corps, Al Ewing isn’t exactly original in this approach, one that we’ve seen at least twice this century and, oddly, both drawn by Frank Quitely: The Authority #20 written by Mark Millar where an evil version of the Doctor is defeated when the full extent of those powers kick in, including global overwhelming empathy for all; and All-Star Superman #12 written by Grant Morrison where Lex Luthor, having stolen Superman’s powers, is defeated when the full extent of those powers kick in, including global overwhelming empathy for all. I’m sure there are other notable examples and I don’t raise them to criticise Ewing for being unoriginal, more to acknowledge their existence as well-known comics that Ewing and many readers no doubt have knowledge of.

While they clearly weigh as influences to the scene where Toranos experiences the caring that comes as part of Thor’s power, particularly the horror that comes with it as an experience so foreign and different, forever altering his very being, the idea that Thor’s plan always rested upon a feign of strength being the path to victory when it’s really love truly does echo the way that the Thor Corps mini-series plays out. A story seemingly about a group of Thors coming together to travel across time and save all of reality through hammers and muscles and lightning... yet, the solution is genuine human caring. There, it was a trick played on readers by the creators of the series; here, it’s a trick played by Thor on Toranos.

The epigraph that Ewing uses for this issue is a clever foreshadowing of what happens to Toranos, one that he doesn’t telegraph by presenting it in Latin rather than English. Coming from the Carmina Burana, it’s fairly well known in Latin when set to music, so it’s not quite so unusual to present it that way. Set next to the quotes from the Poetic Edda, though, which are always translated into English (and so are any future epigraphs from sources not originally in English), it’s a purposeful choice. In a work about language, the meaning of words, and translation, this is the one quote presented where the reader needs to work to understand it on even the most basic level. Once translated, the meaning and connection to the issue is immediately clear, but so are other epigraphs. My best guess is that it’s meant to echo the experience of Toranos holding Mjolnir and receiving the power of Thor in full. At first, it’s impossible for him to understand who Thor is and what his true power is; but, once it’s ‘translated’ for him, it’s so obvious and overwhelming in its true meaning.

The translated epigraph (taken from here):

The wheel of fortune turns;

And I descend, debased;

Another rises in turn;

Raised too high

The king sits at the top

Let him fear ruin!

It seems almost pointless to actually analyse/discuss that epigraph given how literally you can apply it to Toranos (who holds the wheel), Thor (who lowers himself by giving his power away), and the result of Toranos gaining Thor’s power only for it to cause him to flee in horror. There’s also the opposite meaning, that the wheel turns, Toranos falls, Thor rises higher and must fear his future death (as sensed/seen by Jane Foster near the end of the issue). Or, to take it further, it’s the cycle that Gaea begins to plan in the short sequence at the beginning of the issue. Endless rise and fall, endless renewal, the wheel turns.

The revelation that Gaea is the one that set the Utgardians loose is shocking, yet telegraphed at the beginning of the issue. The idea that she would attempt to create a break in the war of the Ur-gods by introducing something new, thus spawning, eventually, the various pantheons, each with their peak, each variations on one another. The caption “A wheel that turned... yet, with each turning made new,” also relates to the manner in which Toranos is bested by Thor. They are both storm gods, Thor meant to be ‘weaker’ than Toranos in raw power, yet Thor has a strength that Toranos lacks: restraint. The judicious use of his power. While set upon Earth by Gaea, there’s also a sense that Toranos would simply do this anyway. He only knows destruction under the punishment of the superstorm. When the wheel turned enough times to produce Thor, while there is overlap with the elder god, there’s enough new to be foreign.

Which returns us to the Thor Corps and the way that this new version is a reversal/variation. As I said last week, the original iteration gathered twice and, each time, took on a threat from the future that threatened all reality, backwards through time. Toranos is literally the oldest (ish) sort of threat from the past, come to threaten the future, merging the two once he gains hold of Mjolnir, as he notes, “THE ANCIENT STORM MEETS WITH THE NEW! THE PAST AND THE FUTURE ARE ONE IN ME!” However, the past is quickly swept over by the future with modern ideas and considerations basically unstoppable. The wheel turns and, if this weren’t a Marvel comic, you can picture a world where the epigraph was simpler, taken from Deadwood:

“You cannot fuck the future, sir. The future fucks you.”

*

Essential Read Number One: Avengers Inc. #3

As we progress through the course of The Immortal Thor, I will sometimes have to flag so-called ‘essential’ comics that fall outside of the 25 issues of the monthly serial. Full disclosure: none are actually essential. You can read The Immortal Thor #1-25 from beginning to end without going outside of those issues and never fail to understand what’s going on. But, sometimes, Al Ewing wrote other comics that are as close to ‘essential’ as you can get without actually, you know, being that. Many will bear the name Thor on their cover, but not this one. Avengers Inc. #3 provides the answer to the unsaid question at the end of The Immortal Thor #5: how is Skurge alive and in Dario Agger’s office with Amora? Isn’t he meant to be dead?

Well, funnily enough, the issue begins with Skurge in Valhalla... dying. His own axe, the Bloodaxe, somehow flies at him and kills him. This is a seemingly impossible sort of murder given that Valhalla is full of the honoured dead and how can someone who is already dead die again? Jane Foster, in her role as the new Valkyrie, enlists Janet Van Dyne and Victor Shade to come to Valhalla and solve the mystery. In the course of their investigation, they figure out that the only way for Skurge to have died was with his own permission as a ruse to help him escape Valhalla and return to a mortal life. And only someone with an intricate knowledge of Valhalla and the rules governing it, including ways to leave it, could have assisted. Namely, another resident, Odin. He reveals that Skurge had had visions of Thor’s death and sought to return to Earth to take that death again, even if it meant never returning to Valhalla.

All of this is eventually revealed in the pages of The Immortal Thor, so this issue acts as a bit of a revelation sooner than you’d get otherwise. As such, I do wonder if it’s best read around this point in The Immortal Thor or left until after issue 21 when the story is retold (minus the mystery elements). There’s something to be said about leaving the mystery in the pages of the main story where Skurge’s references to Thor’s death and trying to take it on behalf of the Thunder God as he did the first time he died, and it’s not made completely explicit what happened until the fight outside the gates of Utgard. It adds a bit of edge to Skurge’s actions with Amora and Dario Agger, I find.

Yet, I can’t pretend that I didn’t read this issue around this point of The Immortal Thor as it came out. It came out October 23, 2023, while issue four of The Immortal Thor came out November 15. So, it pre-dated this two-issue Thor Corps story, making it known fairly early in the run. That means Skurge showing up at the end of issue five isn’t a complete shock for those of us who read Avengers Inc. #3. We knew Skurge was back and would run into Thor at some point. I wouldn’t say that that diminished the reading experience any... and yet...

This is the sort of debate I have with myself at times when constructing reading orders where the spine is set and you need to decide where best to place ancillary issues. While the original release date meant that you could read it at X, does it maybe work better narratively at Y? When I did my Brian Michael Bendis-focused reading order for Secret Invasion, I very much ignored release order in favour of what I thought was the optimal reading experience. In the case of Avengers Inc. #3, I remain somewhat undecided. It’s clearly a direct tie-in to The Immortal Thor with the way it gives even Leonard Kirk the chance to draw the flash-forward image of Thor bloody with Mjolnir and Tormod in hand, ready to fight and die. It’s hard to ignore it.

Its placement here, after issue five, seems as good as any place. It doesn’t disrupt the flow from issue-to-issue, which it would a bit more following issue three, which ends on the tease of Thor going to meet Storm. And it follows up on that final page reveal where Skurge is there with Amora. The idea that Skurge returns from the dead due to a prophetic dream, in an effort to stave off that future, also ties in nicely with some of the ideas discussed above about the confrontation between Thor and Toranos. Skurge is rushing from the past toward a future, doing his best to change it, to overcome it... but, as we’ll see, it’s not possible. For the second time:

“You cannot fuck the future, sir. The future fucks you.”

Next week, The Immortal Thor #6, which shows how you can change the past, if you want, along with Thor #159, the first big retcon in Thor’s history.

The Immortal Thorsday Thoughts 04

Ah, the Thor Corps. I was actually a little surprised when they brought back that name in The Immortal Thor #4 after it was passed over during Secret Wars when the Thor­-replacement series was titled Thors instead, despite featuring a group called the Thor Corps and the habit of reusing old titles for those series. I figured that there had to be a reason why they wouldn’t call the comic “Thor Corps” and use the original mini’s logo like the rest of the Battleworld minis during that event. It’s always baffled me and the inclusion of the name again here in The Immortal Thor only adds to that bafflement. Although, they don’t use the original logo in this issue when Thor says the name and it gets a logo-esque treatment (nor on the cover of issue 5). A little respect and homage paid, not in full, alas.

Prior to The Immortal Thor #4 and Thors, the Thor Corps originally appeared in Thor #438-441 and Thor Corps #1-4 by Tom DeFalco, Ron Frenz, and Patrick Olliffe (DeFalco and Frenz co-plotted the issues of Thor with DeFalco scripting and Frenz pencilling, while DeFalco wrote and Olliffe pencilled the followup mini-series). The first story where the group came together was actually titled “The Thor War” and had Zarrko the Tomorrow Man pit then-current Thor Eric Masterson again possible-future Thor Dargo Ktor to fuel his efforts to conquer time. The battle of two wielders of Mjolnir summoned Beta Ray Bill and, soon, the trio were teaming up to stop Zarrko, which meant fighting through an army of Thor enemies plucked from various points in time until they finally managed to win. Thor Corps reunited the trio, though Eric Masterson had given up Mjolnir for Thunderstrike by that point, trying to stop all of time and realities from being destroyed by Dargo’s enemy Demonstaff. At the end of the third issue, they use the collective power of Mjolnir, Thunderstrike, and Stormbreaker to summon Thor to aid them in their fight. Basically, the idea is exactly what it sounds like: multiple Thors (of sorts) teaming up.

What I’ve found interesting, in retrospect, is that Thor Odinson was barely involved. The first iteration of the group was during the period where the Odinson was thought dead and Eric Masterson wielded Mjolnir (and was still somewhat of a novice at it). The core trio of the Thor Corps was Masterson, Dargo Ktor, and Beta Ray Bill, who, as the most experienced hammer-user and warrior, settled into the role of leader (and peacemaker for the other two). While Masterson took the spotlight as far as perspective in the initial series since he was the star of Thor, the group was a bit of a Bill showcase. In both iterations, he was the calm, collected veteran Thor who could keep his head and come up with a plan of attack. In the first story, he became an example for Eric to follow as he learned how to be Thor – and, in the second, he was already established with the other two as the clear best Thor of the trio. One of my favourite moments is when Bill first arrives and Masterson is immediately awed, thinking “HE’S SO ALIEN--! AND YET, NOBILITY CLINGS TO HIM LIKE A SECOND SKIN! / HE REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF THE ORIGINAL THOR!”

In the final issue of Thor Corps, the Odinson is seen as a bit of a last resort for the group, calling upon the ‘real’ Thor. Yet, despite his central role that places him above the others to an extent, much of his purpose is to give the other three moral support and inspiration. He doesn’t show up and take the attitude that they should fall in line behind him. He talks them up, treats them as equal, and takes the attitude that, if they’re all worthy, then they’re all worthy. There’s no worthier. There’s a trust among those that can lift Mjolnir. It’s that idea that carries over the most to The Immortal Thor #4 where Thor gathers together various trusted allies who’ve all held Mjolnir at some point (Beta Ray Bill, Storm, Jane Foster, and Loki) to stand against Toranos in a plan that requires absolute faith in each of their abilities to work together. The composition of the group is quite different from the original version(s) where Thor Odinson the All-Father is clearly the Thor in charge and he’s assisted by a group of veterans.

Save one.

The recruitment of Storm is the focus of the issue and her position in the group stands out, as she was not an experienced wielder of Mjolnir. (You can also question Loki’s time holding the hammer, but, as an Asgardian, he kind of gets a pass. Actually, as a side note to this side note: Loki is the final Thor villain that Zarrko plucks from the timestream and much of his fight with the Thor Corps has him absolutely bodying Eric and Dargo. It’s a rare instance where Loki’s enhanced Asgardian strength and warrior upbringing are given the spotlight to see him out-fight opponents, not just trick them or rely on magic.) Yet, her experience as an X-Man and her mutant powers give her a certain prestige. The confrontation between her and Thor as Thor interrupts her involvement in the war on Arakko is one that establishes her, at first, as Thor’s equal or better. Al Ewing relies on some very specific wording to seemingly give Storm the (temporary) edge by emphasising that she controls the weather while Thor only commands the storm (ironic given her name). It’s a clever bit of parsing of their particular skills, following up on a similar instance in the first issue where Thor commands a blizzard (a snow storm). So, while she’s a novice Thor, she brings her own formidable power to the table. In fact, every member of this iteration has their own abilities/powers outside of those bestowed by Mjolnir. It’s a bit of Thor Corps Supergroup version, you could argue.

The makeup of the group, both in members and conception isn’t the only change. Unlike the threats of Zarrko or Demonstaff, Toranos is not from the future. While he poses a threat to the future of the world or, as the holder of the Wheel, represents the idea of a future threat coming to pass, he’s more a relic of the past. As we’ll see in the next issue, the idea isn’t to defeat him either, but to change an old idea into something newer. The triumph of this Thor Corps is a triumph of the future over the past, a reversal of the previous version.

Dig into it and there is actually very little in common between the two (another change: the original all had their respective hammers, while this one shares a single Mjolnir). Why reuse the name at all? Aside from the commonality of a collection of Thors (and the presence of Beta Ray Bill), the original Thor Corps and this version are practically opposites on every level. Why would Thor specifically call the group that name?

That answer comes next week as I discuss The Immortal Thor #5 and the first comic that I’d call an essential read outside of the 25 issues of The Immortal Thor, Avengers Inc. #3.