The Immortal Thorsday Thoughts 23

Let’s return to Thor #272, the original trip by Thor and Loki to Utgardhall, later recounted/retconned in The Immortal Thor #6-7. In that original story by Roy Thomas and John Buscema, adapted from The Prose Edda by Snorri Sturluson, Thor and Loki travel through the land of giants, following Skrymir, to Utgardhall where they encounter Utgard, the lord and master of Utgardhall. In the original Edda, it’s Utgarda-Loki specifically named as the king, which is how Utgard is presented in Thor #272. He’s shown as an older man wearing a crown and fur-lined robes, declaring himself “master of Utgardhall,” and, by all respects, the sole ruler of the land. When Loki retells the story, fashioning it into the larger context of Utgard as a Realm-Outside-of-Realms where some of the Elder Gods fled to avoid death at the hands of Atum, Utgard becomes Utgard-Loki as designed by Alex Ross, and it introduces itself to Thor and Loki as “MOON-KING, MONSTER-TAMER, MASTER-MAGICIAN OF UTGARD’S HALL... / ...YOU MAY KNOW ME AS THE UTGARD-LOKI.” It’s a shift from the ruler of Utgardhall to something more nebulous, still retaining the word ‘king,’ but adding a modifier along with numerous other titles. Yet, Utgard-Loki still takes on the grandeur and role of ruler of that Realm... in that retelling and throughout The Immortal Thor when we see Utgard.

So... Kemur, the minotaur at the centre of NRGL the endless city in Utgard, representing the idea of kingship. But, not the king of Utgard? I guess this is where you could argue that my hyper-literal brain is trying to impose too much order. If you look into Kemur/Kemwer, you find yourself into some Egyptian god stuff where Kemwer could refer to Horus or to Mnevis, a bull god, that was originally its own being, but was eventually subsumed into the idea of Atum-Ra as his physical manifestation or as the soul of Ra. The centre of worship for Mvenis was in Heliopolis, a large city and major place of religious worship. Funnily enough, the Mnevis bull was second to the Apis bull... Yet, Kemur is clearly drawing upon, for our purposes, more the Minotaur of the Labyrinth. Ewing is mixing and matching lots of influences, which complicates any background.

But, there are two things about the Mvenis bull that stand out as relevant to Kemur and this issue: that it was the second-most important bull and that it’s conception was eventually subsumed into Atum-Ra. The fact that the Mvenis bull was second to the Apis bull in importance is what I was trying to get at with referencing The Prose Edda and Thor #272: Kemur is second to Utgard-Loki (at best) in Utgard. He may be the embodiment of the idea of a king, but he doesn’t rule Utgard. He’s more like the Minotaur trapped at the centre of the Labyrinth, fed virgins by the King of Crete. He rules his area, but there is a larger world. This strikes at the central point of much of the discourse on kings in this issue, about their cowardice, their lack of rule through anything other than fear and force... Kemur is a pathetic creature living in the centre of a larger god, uninvolved in the true goings on in Utgard, content to sit on his throne and pretend himself important.

That the Mvenis bull began as its own god until eventually becoming the physical embodiment of Atum-Ra is, perhaps, where Ewing began to formulate the idea of Kemur. The big revelation of Kemur is that, when confronted by his half-brother, Atum, the god-slayer, instead of battling him in a battle to end all battles to determine the fate of the Elder Gods, Kemur ran, praying to his half-brother that he wouldn’t be killed. While not subsumed by Atum as the Demigourge, his fleeing is admitting defeat. Atum beat Kemur via forfeit and Kemur’s physical existence is like being an aspect of Atum, a reminder of Atum’s supremacy and power. Kemur is second to both Utgard-Loki and Atum.

He’s also half-brother to Thor (and great-great uncle) being the son of Gaea and Tiwaz. That detail is almost too easy to gloss over in this issue. While Thor, king of Asgard, fighting Elder God Kemur, god of kings, already places Kemur in a place of external embodiment of Thor, by making him share the same mother and Kemur’s father be Thor’s great-grandfather, Kemur is placed that much closer to Thor. There’s a bit of Kemur that recalls old King Thor from the Jason Aaron run. The old king that sits on his throne in his empty city, ruling over no one, clinging to the idea of being a king despite having no true kingdom. The king as tyrant is also a version of Thor that we’ve discussed previously from the Dan Jurgens run and the future that Magni comes from. Basically, Kemur is what Thor could be. The king that rules for the sake of being a king. The Thor that would be weighed down by the idea of Asgard, the burden of his lineage – hence why Kemur is also family.

Kemur is eventually brought low by three things: Thor’s belt that represents his endurance, the assistance of Skurge and Hermod, and Loki shooting the Eternity Mask (now an arrow) right between Kemur’s eyes.

The importance of belt becoming the ring that leads Kemur by the nose is that Thor’s endurance is also his spirit of will. His unwillingness to bend from who he is, to always remain true to his ideals. By using this to defeat Kemur, it’s the dominance of his strength of character over the idea that he could ever become the tyrant king of various futures. It’s also the first Elder God defeated, in part, by one of the magical weapons that Thor brings with him to Utgard. He will face at least two more Elder Gods and he has...

That Hermod and Skurge assist him, fighting alongside him as equals, speaks to his strength as a king. These are both Asgardians that are subject to his rule, but they don’t fight here because he orders them to. There is an element of duty, but earned duty. They feel affection and devotion to Thor not just because of his title, but because he treats them as fellow warriors, equals on the battlefield, willing to fight and die beside them. They follow Thor as their king because they want to. Again, he’s not the tyrant king that commands subjects who obey only out of fear, he inspires them to follow him and be willing to trust in him.

And Loki’s entrance and slaying of Kemur with the Eternity Mask fashioned into an arrow is the first symbolic killing of Thor. The foreshadowing of what’s to come. Loki stepping back into the story to influence its direction, because, otherwise, it will not go where it is supposed to. Ideally, Thor would have come to Utgard with all three weapons, but he only has two, and that’s not enough. Loki kills one physical representation of Thor before they will kill Thor, their narration addressing their guilt and reluctance to do so. But, another element of who Thor is is slain here, stripping him of another aspect of himself, if only symbolically.

Next week, Thor dies for real.

The Immortal Thorsday Thoughts 22

Despite its structural conceit and technical skill, The Immortal Thor #22 is probably the most straight forward issue of the series. Almost all of the usual subtext and themes are sacrificed upon the altar of the gimmick of the issue wherein the majority of the pages can be read either before or after each page that precedes and follows it. I give Al Ewing all of the credit in the world for making a comic that pulls off that feat, because it’s actually pretty remarkable. But, it also means that the storytelling needs to be so precise that the transition between pages is where much of the importance lies. Do you move onto the next or back to the previous? Either way, it must make sense and flow, even in repetition.

The plot of the issue is straight forward: Thor and Skurge, trapped in NRGL, the Elder God that is the endless city, battle their way through the creatures that are also NRGL, encountering both Hermod and Heimdall, both thought lost to a death beyond the Realms. Which, of course, is true, given that Utgard is a Realm outside of the Realms. The conceit of the issue is that Utgard-Loki sets us on the path of the issue and we advance or go back by the flip of a coin. Hence why pages must make sense in either direction. Eventually, when we (and Thor, Skurge, etc.) make it through, the issue ends with the embodiment of the image upon Utgard-Loki’s coin representing heads: the bull/minotaur. Yet, even in a relatively straight forward issue (if you’re lucky), there are still bits and pieces of interest.

The framing where Utgard-Loki takes charge of the narrative, including flat out preventing Loki’s usual narrative captions from addressing is the ‘meat’ of the issue, as it were. The conceit of the coin that moves you forward or back, of leaving your progression to chance or luck – or fate – is meant to mirror the journey that Thor has already taken. Guided by some unseen force that appears random and without motive. Yet, the path is straight, a road that heads in two directions. Even if you seem to go back, the story continues and, eventually, you move towards the fated end. Thor encounters Toranos, manages to progress past that challenge, yet encounters him twice more. Thor passes Loki’s test/riddle... and, then, must solve another. Thor journeyed to Utgard... and so has returned. To go forward, you sometimes go back.

And, like Loki being the unseen author of Thor’s tale, providing a framework and correcting things, we’re also reading a story seemingly constructed by Utgard-Loki – but all of it is really Al Ewing and Jan Bazaldua with Matt Hollingsworth and Joe Sabino. They are the storytellers and the story is their work. Utgard-Loki, the coin, the whole thing... it’s not actually luck or fate, it’s just a comic and the idea that, we in real life, would flip a coin to determine which direction we go is them breaking the rules, in a way. They’re breaking the illusion, which actually works against the point of the comic, which is to show Thor, Skurge, Hermod, and Heimdall trapped in the endless city that is NRGL. Theoretically, the coin technique could trap the reader in the comic, never allowing them to finish it, but it also pushes them out of the comic. After all, how engrossed can you be if you’re flipping a coin at the end of each page? The natural flow of the comic is broken, making it nearly impossible for a reader to actually lose themselves in its pages, even if for a few minutes. It’s oddly paradoxical.

The coins that Utgard-Loki uses are never shown to actually contain both sides. We see each displaying a single side. Whenever they’re flipped, one always comes up tails and one always comes up heads. It’s implied that both contain each a heads and a tails, yet... Utgard-Loki is the archetypal trickster god, so, when it flips a coin right to introduce the idea that we may move forward or back, that the coin flipped is the one that shows heads suggests that it’s all a lie. If you look closely at the panel where it’s turning in the air, you can only see heads, no tails. We’re only meant to move forward. There is no going back. Even the repetition of the past is different, has a different meaning, plays out differently... it’s always moving forward.

The two coins contain various meanings, some of which is told by Utgard-Loki. The design of each is specific, containing both an image and a familiar rune.

For tails, per Utgard-Loki: “THE SERPENT ENCIRCLES YOU AS IT EATS ITSELF. CIRCLES THE WORLD, AN ENEMY PROPHESIED BUT NEVER DEFEATED. / THE COIN TAKES YOU BACK TO WHAT YOU THOUGHT YOU’D LEFT BEHIND.” It has the image of the serpent as Ouroboros along with the rune raidho, the rune of journeys. (“Now I’m going back to Canada on a journey through the past...” the man sings.) Looking back, the snake eating its own tail, the way that this comic is built upon the work of the past, referencing it over and over again, a modernist work that is ultimately self-referential. The journey of Thor through time, through stories. But, also, when Thor encountered the riddle of raidho, he crafted Tormod, his ax of wit and wisdom. After all, when taking all of these pieces of the past, of feeding stories into this story, isn’t that showing off cleverness and knowledge? But, the serpent also points to the Midgard Serpent, Thor’s past and future enemy. His past and future deaths. In this series, the serpent is not just the Midgard Serpent, though, it’s Donald Blake. His past self, the other half of his soul, his future self, after a fashion. As Thor moves forward, he’s actually moving back towards Blake. And, as enemies, since they are, in fact, one being (in a sense), isn’t their conflict the Ouroboros?

For heads, per Utgard-Loki: “NOW THE COIN IS WITH YOU. IT MOVES YOU ON, PUSHES YOU FORWARD... BUT TO WHAT? FOR WHAT? / WHAT WAITS AT THE END OF THE MAZE?” It has the image of the bull’s head along with the rune uruz, the rune of endurance. You get through it. You make your way through the maze to the end of the comic. The story goes on and on. Literally, the issue ends with Kemur, the Elder God that looks like a bull/minotaur. But, he’s not the only one that has that imagery. Dario Agger is also the minotaur associated with money. He keeps coming back, his corporation Roxxon a constant threat to Earth, which Thor is trying to save. But, also Utgard-Loki’s head, as it appears to us, resembles the image on the coin. The horns and the skull-like face. After Kemur lies Utgard-Loki. And after Utgard-Loki is Loki, whose headgear also makes them resemble the bull. And both Utgard-Loki and Loki wish to move Thor forward, move the story forward, for their own ends. Just as Dario wishes to progress. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Progress. The line going up? Each bull just another enemy to move past on the way to that eventual serpent thought left in the past. Because you don’t journey through the story, you endure it. You live it.

Later in the issue, Utgard-Loki makes their presence known again with the phrase “THAT’S THE QUESTION, ISN’T IT?” in response to two different questions. Because Utgard-Loki is a liar and a trickster. In this page, we’re almost tricked into thinking that there’s only one coin, that it’s a fair even choice between going back and moving forward. In the second panel, Utgard-Loki holds the tails coin in their right hand (on our left). In the third, it looks like they’ve flipped the coin, now showing heads mid-air, yet the fourth panel, showing the coin in rotation still only shows heads. I can’t see any suggestion of the serpent eating its tail. Because, as Utgard-Loki tells us, the coin is the lie that tricks us into repeating our actions, day after day. Our dreary lives spent in toil for coins to survive, doing the same tasks, living the same routines... except, the coin is actually propelling us forward. Making us think we’re journeying through frustrating repetition while we’re actually enduring our lives, always going forward. Utgard-Loki boiling our lives down to this pathetic imagery as justification for the destruction of humanity at the hands of the Elder Gods.

“HOW MANY COINS ARE THERE? / DO YOU KNOW?”

*

If Utgard-Loki is heads, NRGL is tails... the endless maze, the Ouroboros...

With NRGL, Ewing adds a bit of playfulness and looking beyond the Norse pantheon for the denizens of Utgard. The name seems a reference to Nergal, a Mesopotamian god associated with war, death, and disease, translated from Sumerian as “lord of the big city,” specifically the underworld. Using the dual meaning of that translation, Ewing envisions a literal lord of the big city in the sense that NRGL is a living city, endless (immortal), and able to be whatever it desires. But, NRGL is also a literal underworld in that gods that die in a certain way go to. The underworld that NRGL is lord of is the oblivion that awaits the gods if they die beyond the Realms. Heimdall came here in Valkyrie: Jane Foster #3, while Hermod was obliterated by the Oblivion-possessed Tyr in The Immortal Thor #12. If you’ll recall, Tyr was given to the In-Betweener by Loki in an effort to learn something... perhaps, an alternate route to Utgard?

In Valkyrie: Jane Foster #3, after being killed by Bullseye, Heimdall’s request to not be taken to Valhalla is honoured by Jane in her new role as the last Valkyrie. Instead, she takes him to the edge of the Realms/reality and sets him adrift to cross beyond. We never see what happened, nor is it ever hinted that it could be Utgard. But, just as Loki retcons reality, so too is Ewing retconning his own work to accommodate the needs of the current story being told. Utgard is literally the ‘Outyards,’ the Realm that’s not a Realm, outside the Realms and the universe. The way that Jane takes Heimdall to get there is through Heven and Hades where the anti-Yggdrasil lies. There’s a bit of play with passing through two places that signify an afterlife, but are also not the traditional Valhalla/Hel dynamic that exists for Asgardians typically.

Much of Immortal Thor is spent revolving around various afterlife locations and their relationship with these seemingly eternal gods. The story literally starts with an unending war between the Elder Gods that is ended by Atum who absorbs and digests them, causing them to flee. Utgard is held behind a locked gate, basically an eternal afterlife for the gods that sought shelter there. Removed from existence, it’s a sort of limbo existence. Which is also the way that Vidbláinn is described, the other big afterlife of the series – one that Thor has already visited and will visit again. Where Skurge is threatened to go should he die again. It’s interesting that neither Heimdall nor Hermod went there when they were removed from the universe by different than usual means. And, when Thor dies in Utgard, that’s where he goes. And these various places all relate to Loki’s quest for freedom for all. Die enough times, live enough afterlives, and...?

With NRGL, there are two additonal details that struck me when doing the bare minimum online research. A logogram used for Nergal from the Middle Babylonian period forward is ^dU.GUR, which was originally associated with Ugur, an attendant deity to Nergal. It’s hard not to see the visual similarity to Utgard. Maybe that was what sparked the initial connection.

For comics, the name Nergal also brings to mind John Constantine. Nergal is the demon that Constantine summoned at the Casanova Club to combat the demon summoned by Astra Logue and the result of that is the big moment of guilt that hangs over Constantine throughout his life. Nergal became a regular antagonist to Constantine throughout Hellblazer and is sort of representative of the only demon that holds any upper hand over him consistently, if only because of that initial mental scar inflicted when he was younger. Bringing up Constantine and words like ‘magic’ and ‘trickster’ in relation to Loki and Utgard-Loki isn’t a direct clue to anything. If anything, it’s a very faint allusion where connections are visible without much true meaning. If pressed, there’s something in Loki sacrificing others in pursuit of their larger goal that recalls Constantine’s willingness to let others pay the price for his actions. However, Constantine is usually reactive, while Loki is fully active here.

The final bit on NRGL: the continued use of the word ‘maze’ in this issue is misleading. NRGL is not a maze, it’s a labyrinth. That’s part of the trick of the coins: the only way is forward and there is only one path. A maze is a contained, winding path puzzle with various false branches that shunt off from the one true path; a labyrinth only has one winding, twisted path that you can’t veer off from. That’s this issue, the story. It may seem disorienting and like you’ve gotten lost, but it’s always a direct route from A to B. And, at the end, is a minotaur...

Next week, the minotaur and the king in The Immortal Thor #23.

1 in the 6160 – Ultimate Endgame #1

[While I plan to return to the regular 6 in the 6160 series of posts, stopped dead in its tracks by the daunting task of being a critic mired in traditional western superhero comics trying to reckon with Peach Momoko’s Ultimate X-Men. So, I have retreated and returned via what would be something of a safe space for the likes of me: an event comic. Ultimate Endgame #1 dropped this week, the beginning of the end of the Ultimate Universe, the culmination of the two-year countdown initiated at the end of Ultimate Invasion #4, and Deniz Camp’s first big swing at an event comic after paving the way via The Ultimates. There will be spoilers, so, if you haven’t read the issue yet, maybe bookmark this for a later return – or even just leave it as one of your many tabs that you may or may not read before you either go on a mass-closing spree or your browser crashes and your beloved opened, unread tabs are all wiped from existence like so much a [REDACTED].]

1 – “How do you stand the disappointment?”

Let’s just jump to the end. The dome over The City has opened and our foursome of ostensible heroes (Iron Lad, Doom, America Chavez, and Spider-Man) have entered, or, rather, been sucked inside a new time bubble that contains The City anew immediately after the dome falls. Inside, The City looks like shit. A complete post-industrial nightmare of pollution. The Children attack, they’re unbeatable, until the foursome is saved by Death’s Head 22 and a cadre of Deathloks, and, then, taken back to Immortus, who is presumably Howard Stark, but may also be the evolution of Kang, who was either Howard or Tony Stark, where they’re told that finding the Maker in The City isn’t a problem, because the Maker is The City, cut to:

The central node of the City, a sickly giant tree in the centre, with the Maker’s face as the trunk.

The evolution of The City and the Maker is to become Krakoa.

If Ultimate Invasion set up the path of this Ultimate Universe under the influence of Warren Ellis, specifically Planetary, then Ultimate Endgame ends it under the influence of Jonathan Hickman. What springs to mind, specifically, is the way that this issue uses Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1 as something of a template to reference and respond to. That issue, which began an aborted run by Hickman and Esad Ribić was a genuinely exciting issue to read upon release. It felt fresh and new, and gave off the impression of everything falling apart at once.

Camp uses that idea of various locations where things fall apart in an interesting way. While the Hickman/Ribić issue centres around Nick Fury and SHIELD monitoring all of these situations, including Tony Stark getting taken out, a conflict with Asgard, the appearance of/engagement with The City, and ends with Fury staring into space, eyes wide, declaring that he doesn’t know what to do, the Camp issue approaches the chaos initially as a positive. The world is falling apart in revolution. The chaos is the unmaking of the status quo and, instead of being on the side of Fury and that status quo, we’re rooting for the downfall. It’s a clever reversal that gives the issue a different sort of tension. A hopeful one where it’s building to the moment when the dome falls and The City re-engages with the world.

In that tension is the fear that everything will go south immediately. That all hope will be lost. And that’s what happens. Everything falls apart in a similar fashion to how things go in Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1: where The City sucked in members of Fury’s team there, it sucks in our foursome here. Where death and destruction rains down on Fury’s forces there, it’s Fury that emerges from nowhere to rain down death and destruction on the Ultimates.

The prologue in Ultimate Endgame #1 where the Maker’s destruction of the Eternals is shown even relates to the opening of Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1, which shows the Maker and his batch of Children finding the spot to build The City. Before building his City in this universe, the Maker destroys and replaces another... Olympia is, after all, something of an earlier version of the Maker’s City. An eternal city populated with its superpowered children that are continually replenished upon death. Except, where Olympia is eternal stasis, The City is meant to be eternal evolution. And the Maker becoming The City (and shown as a tree in its centre) is a clear reference to Krakoa, it’s also the Maker becoming the Machine at the heart of Olympia. The Maker has now become what he destroyed and is he now facing a new version of himself...?

One of the key visual similarities that I found interesting is the way that the Children look identical in both comics. When The City reveals itself in both comics, the Children are the same bald beings with the same mechanical attachment, the same uniforms. Camp and artist Jonas Scharf could have gone in any direction with the Children. After all, the Children in Ultimate Invasion didn’t look exactly this way. Instead, they chose the visual callback of that initial encounter with The City and its Children in Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1 where the Children were similarly overwhelming to Captain Britain and his team after they’re sucked into The City.

The biggest difference is that, while I appreciate Ultimate Endgame #1 upon reflection, the experience of reading it was almost the opposite of what it was like to read Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1 when it came out. While Ultimate Comics Ultimates #1 was the beginning of something, Ultimate Endgame #1 is the ending, the one that we’ve been waiting for and anticipating for two years... and what can live up to those hopes? The experience of reading Ultimate Endgame #1 somewhat mirrors the events of it. The anticipation, the waiting, the countdown to the moment... and, then, it doesn’t go how you thought it would. Is that good? Is that bad? It’s an experience, I’d argue and one that I’m appreciating more and more...

The Immortal Thorsday Thoughts 21

The central conflict of The Immortal Thor #21 is between Thor and Skurge as the former is determined to not let anyone die on his behalf and the latter is determined to die on Thor’s behalf. Skurge’s entire purpose in this series has been to die instead of Thor. For every tease and prophecy of Thor’s death, Skurge has tried to insert himself into Thor’s place, standing before the Utgard Gods, and being struck down while the Thunder God and All-Father may live. It’s why Skurge conspired with Odin to escape Valhalla via dying, why he aligned himself with Amora and Dario Agger, and why he petitioned Ullr to make him a new Bloodaxe. Just as Thor has weapons crafted from his very identity, so too does Skurge have a new weapon tied to his soul. A real unstoppable force meeting an unmoveable object situation, you know? Of course, they both give in. Thor agrees to let Skurge accompany him to Utgard and Skurge agrees to accompany Thor to Utgard.

It all stems back to Thor #362 by Walt Simonson, where, after retrieving mortal souls stolen by Hela, Thor and his fellow Asgardians seek to escape Hel. In the process, it’s revealed that Skurge, who stood against them, had been tricked by Hela into thinking he was assisting Amora when it was another. This revelation causes Skurge to realise that his whole life has been being someone else’s weapon. The Executioner pointed by women in a direction with no agency of his own, treated as nothing more than a pet. “I LOVE, THEY ALL LAUGH AT ME,” he tells Baldur after striking Thor from behind, knocking him unconscious, as the Thunder God prepared to guard the Gjallerbru, the bridge out of Hel, from the pursuing army of the dead. His first real choice for himself is to take Thor’s place and guard the bridge, to protect his fellow Asgardians from Hela’s army of the dead, armed with nothing more than two machine guns. Skurge standing on the bridge, gunning down the dead is an image so powerful that it was used in Thor: Ragnarok. It was an act that resulted in Skurge’s death but also made him immortal. Thor surely would have died on that bridge just as Skurge had, and Skurge took that death, and proved that he was more than Amora’s lapdog.

Over the years, Skurge has appeared and reappeared and, while Thor #362 is held in high esteem, one of the many high points of the Simonson run, that esteem made subsequent creators want to use Skurge – and each use lessened the meaning of that issue and the story is contained. So, Al Ewing used that lessening as fuel for Skurge’s story, his metafictional redemption arc that will culminate with him guarding the black bridge that leads to Utgard and giving his life to sever the Utgard Gods from the universe outside that Realm. It’s a dead simple story and that what makes it work so well. Simple motive, simple payoff, big emotion, big impact. It’s what wins Thor over in this issue as they fight. He can’t deny the longing for meaning in Skurge, a man whose life wasn’t what he wanted it to be, but was able to find satisfaction in death – a death that became increasingly meaningless. By no means is Thor prepared to let Skurge die for him, but there’s meaning in fighting and living, in stopping the Utgard Gods from destroying the Earth and Asgard.

We know that both die and go to Vidbláinn, but, when the two join forces, the dying is unimportant, if only for a moment. What matters is their willingness to stand beside one another, to journey to a strange land, and fight for something bigger than both of them. They’re both willing to die and that’s more important than actually dying, if that makes any sense. Sometimes, it’s the offer...

And, they do enter Utgard here. It seems important that Thor doesn’t go alone, just as he didn’t go alone the first time. If you’ll recall, both Thor and Loki were tested, so it would be unfair for Thor to face the test alone. Something I’ve also been mulling over is that Skurge holds a third weapon tied to his soul, a soul that once took the place of Thor’s soul in death. Is Skurge also meant to be a physical representation of Thor, after a fashion? And, if so, is Skurge’s new Bloodaxe the missing third weapon – or a substitute? Is that why Ullr was willing to craft it for Skurge and tie it to his soul? Knowing that Thor was missing that final weapon, his older brother sought to compensate and give him one, even if it is wielded by another, a soul brother? (As The Immortal Thor #25 and The Mortal Thor has shown, the soul is a key element of this story.) After all, as we’ll see, Skurge’s presence and assistance helps Thor survive the Utgard Gods until Loki kills him, something they said they would do, if needed.

And speaking of which...

Who is ‘Thanos?’ In the context of the issue, Thor is meant to think it the embodiment of Death – his death, specifically, or how he conceptualises it after the vision of his death as presented by the Black Winter in Thor #6 (the Cates/Klein run) where he saw Thanos holding Mjolnir, studded with the Infinity Stones and an army of zombies superhumans (as shown again in The Immortal Thor #20). Yet, why would Death appear here? Does it fit with the rest of the series? And why does Loki’s narration end as soon as the confrontation with Skurge begin here at the gates of Utgard?

Well, I have two theories, each equally plausible: it is actually Loki or Utgard-Loki. I would make separate arguments for either, but I’m not entirely certain it matters which it is. Most of the reasons to argue for either overlap and are complicated by the next issue where Utgard-Loki usurps the narrative and Loki’s narration is nowhere to be found (the only issue where that is the case). That ‘Thanos’ stands on the other side of the gate suggests Utgard-Loki as the more likely figure, half-taunting half-testing Thor in his steadfastness to run towards his fate – his death. The line “NOTHING SO SMALL AS THAT” suggests Utgard-Loki, who usually appears giant (but Loki’s ego putting them above Thanos works as well). It also tracks with the previous visit to Utgard Hall where Thor and Loki first encounter Skrymir, later revealed to be Utgard(-Loki), a disguise before making it to Utgard proper where the true form of the God-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is revealed.

After Thor and Skurge pass through the gates and walk through the giant forest, they soon find themselves boxed in, trapped by Utgard-Loki within the very panels of the comic, growing smaller and small until the Elder God holds them, the storyteller of this Realm. Thor says that they’ve “TRANSCENDED FROM PROSE TO POETRY--FROM HARD TRUTH TO FLOATING, FLOWING METAPHOR,” which is similar to the differentiation between Loki and Braggi. If Loki’s storytelling is prose, then Utgard-Loki is also poetry, metaphorically holding Thor and Skurge within their narrative in Utgard.

Then, was ‘Thanos’ metaphor? A representation of Thor’s fated death, teased by Utgard-Loki, challenging Thor to face it by passing through the gates? I still allow the possibility that it was Loki doing the same, albeit for their specific purposes, knowing that the taunting of ‘Thanos’ would prompt Thor to eventually make peace with Skurge and venture into Utgard with the Executioner at his side. After all, Skurge destroys the black bridge, which also destroys the Bifrost, and that all seems to be part of Loki’s scheme... Perhaps, ‘Thanos’ was merely an assurance that Skurge would be there to accomplish that task.

A slight nudge of the story.

Next week, The Immortal Thor #22, the endless city, and the final death of Heimdall.