The Immortal Thorsday Thoughts 03

The epigraph for The Immortal Thor #3 still comes from The Elder Eddas per the citation, which, for me, is The Poetic Edda, specifically, the “Sayings of the High One,” which Al Ewing sometimes lists as “Odin’s Rune-Song” Fittingly, this section of the Edda is a mixture of elements, including general wisdom/advice, as described by Carolyne Larrington: “Human social wisdom, teasing allusion to runic mysteries, spells, and charms combine in this poem to give a conspectus of different types of wisdom.” Where else would you look for a nice, tidy quote to kick off a story about Thor seeking the wisdom needed to meet Loki’s trial?

While not always the case, I think the translation that Ewing uses for the epigraph is more fitting than the one in my translation. Specifically, Ewing’s quote ends with “But he knows not what to answer, if to the test he is put,” while the Larrington translation ends with “he doesn’t know what he can say in return if people ask him questions.” The latter makes more sense within the context of the poem where a big chunk of the first half or so are stanzas that act as little pearls of advice for living life. In both quotes, it’s about a foolish man thinking himself wise until actually pressed, at which point he reveals his foolishness. Ewing’s quote makes more sense within the context of the comic where it’s not so much a social situation where a foolish speaker is finally made to confront his true self, it’s a larger trial, one where having the wisdom to escape is the difference between life and death.

Beyond the obvious aptness of the epigraph, Ewing selecting a bit of an advice column basically but with dressed up language connects to the purpose of these stories, at their root. They may have involved giants and trolls and life and death, but they were meant, in part, to teach lessons about life, and how to live it. “Sayings of the High One” transitions between stanzas of social advice and magical runes with ease, all meant to be part of the wisdom of Odin. While he’s the king of the Aesir, ruler of Asgard, Odin One-Eye who gave it as sacrifice to gain knowledge beyond knowledge, wisdom beyond wisdom, he’s also the face you give a collection of social instruction because he’s All-Wise and would know things like this just as easily as he knows rune magic. The mundane and the fantastic rubbing up against one another, feeding into one another... the world outside your window, albeit with a muscular man flying with a hammer...

The mixture of ‘high’ and ‘low’ shows up in the issue, like the scene where Thor, having crafted Tormod, the ax-head meant to represent his wisdom, tests the sharpness of the blade by shaving the beard he grew during the All-Sleep. While the wisdom usually represented by a weapon like Tormod is the brutal kind, if it is meant to be a practical sort of wisdom, it needs to solve any problem that requires a sharp point, like a face full of whiskers. Even the solution to Loki’s trial comes at the other end of a walking stick... the riddle solved via a tool to assist in a journey... that takes Thor back to the moment he left the moon. At its core, this issue is about direct, practical knowledge – lateral thinking.

The solution to Loki’s trial isn’t particularly clever or hard to figure out. When Thor crafts the walking stick with the rune at its head, it almost seems foolish that the entire thing rested upon an answer so basic. But, that’s how these stories go. Big life and death stakes resolved with a ‘clever’ twist that any of us could have thought of. Because these gods are just like us. They may learn these lessons in fantastical realms like Skornheim, Skartheim, Utgard, or the unnamed world of this issue but the lessons are, at their core, the same.

This wasn’t the first (or second...) time that Thor had found himself in a far off realm, put to the trial to prove himself. Beyond it being a common trope in myths and stories for the hero to venture into the wilderness to prove himself against nature or another or simply himself, it’s an idea that’s popped up from time to time in Thor comics. The one that immediately sprang to mind was Thor #338 where Thor and Beta Ray Bill are sent to Skartheim to battle to the death to determine who is worthy of Mjolnir. A more fitting comparison for The Immortal Thor #3, though, is Journey into Mystery #116 by Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, and Vince Colletta. “The Trial of the Gods!” has Odin sending Thor and Loki to Skornheim, a place where gods can die, in a race through a treacherous wilderness where the winner will be proven to be honest and right before the All-Father. It’s a patently stupid way to determine which of the two is being honest, particularly at this point in Thor history where, obviously, Loki was lying. He was always lying! But, that was the odd frustrating experience of Odin during this time, meant to mimic the unfair ‘fairness’ of a typical dad who never seemed to notice that one sibling always started it.

Where the Thor/Beta Ray Bill trial was one of straight combat, the Thor/Loki one is a race through a deadly obstacle course where Loki smuggles in Norn Stones to cheat his way along. Despite that, Thor always keeps up through his strength, agility, and smarts. The practical lateral thinking is on display best when both encounter these hard, spiky crystalline trees. Loki uses the Norn Stones to make himself intangible and walk through the forest unscathed. Thor, with no way to safely sneak through, puts his helmet on his hand, wraps his cape tightly around it and up his arm, and runs, smashing his way through, using the helmet fastened tight to his arm. It may not be exceedingly clever, but it’s the closest we get to solving a riddle in that particular trial.

There’s a bit of mirroring between the two stories in Thor’s lashing out in anger. In The Immortal Thor #3, it happens at the beginning; in Journey into Mystery #116, it happens at the end as Thor bursts through a host of carnivorous plants. In both cases, it’s frustration over the actions of Loki and their trickster ways that could leave Thor dead on some far away world. (Fittingly, that early story also has a subplot about Skurge and Enchantress causing mischief on Earth... though, we haven’t gotten there quite yet.)

In a broad sense, this sort of story recurs throughout The Immortal Thor, playing off the idea of the Ten Realms, and far away lands, and these self-contained story boxes. Like panels on pages in issues... Or stanzas in poems in Eddas.

Next week, The Immortal Thor #4 and a brief history of the Thor Corps (Thor #438-441, Thor Corps #1-4, and maybe even a word or two on Thors #1-4).

Blogathon 04: Jack Kirby's Comics Work in the '70s (Part 2)

Tim Callahan, ladies and gentlemen! That is how you discuss Jack Kirby, people!

As I said an hour ago, I have, without knowing I was, taken Tim's prescription for all of us. I don't have a nightstand next to my bed, I have a small, three-shelf bookcase. You see, our bed is a big one. Very tall. I'm 6'1" or so and I have to hop up slightly (pity my poor wife for the massive leaps she must take every time she wants to get into bed). When we were looking for bedside tables, we saw some nice shelves on sale and, well, now I have shelves filled with trades. Some of the first that I decided must go in were those Kirby collections. Over the next while, I plan on taking out the three Captain America trades and reading them. And that Essential Black Panther I picked up in the summer that has most of Kirby's run along with, what I'm told are some fantastic comics done by people who aren't Kirby. Maybe I'll try to reread the Fourth World saga in one long go.

Tim's post was a lot of bombast and became something of a list (which is hard to avoid) and I'm struck by the sheer magnitude of Kirby's output in the '70s. I have four big omnibuses, a slim hardcover, and then another six trades of material... and that's, what, half of what he produced in the '70s? There's no Losers or The Demon or Kamandi or Devil Dinosaur or 2001 or anything else on my shelf. Though, as someone just e-mailed me, 2001 needs to be reprinted. Whatever needs to be done to get that to happen, Marvel, needs to happen!

The one work that I want to read more than any is one that never really happened, not completely: Jack Kirby's The Prisoner. If you read Mister Miracle or OMAC (and probably some of the stuff I haven't read yet), you can see that Kirby had a shared sensibility with that show. A similar love of weird, unexplained events -- of elaborate traps and rouses. Of getting to the end and having the rug pulled out from under you. Of weird machines and fake villages. The Prisoner is a TV series that I enjoy a lot and seeing it filtered through Jack Kirby gets me excited in a way that remaking it with Jesus as the lead doesn't (still haven't seen the remake). I guess it's the unknown possibilities of a Prisoner comic that leaves me so entranced. What would Kirby have done? Would it have been a simple adaptation? Or would Kirby have deviated after that first issue? Where would he have gone?

But, that's the story of... well, almost every Kirby did in the '70s, isn't it? Here was a man, basically, producing creator-owned work, except it was owned by corporations and they kept cutting him off at the knees. The most popular comic book artist of the '60s wasn't so popular in the '70s and every time he tried to make something new happen, something personal and brilliant, it would be taken away because the sales weren't there. That is hard to fathom now, isn't it? How could readers in the '70s not love what Kirby was doing? How could they not buy New Gods and OMAC and Eternals and everything else and make them best sellers? What else of that time hoped to match those books? How? HOW? How could they not let this brilliant genius tell his stories in the ways he wanted for as long as he wanted?

And it makes me wonder about the things we're ignoring now. We've made great strides in this area, but we've all known too many materpieces that have been cut off at the knees thanks to low sales. I guess that's a reality that I'll never fully understand or be comfortable with. But, how could I not when I've got a shelf next to my bed where Kirby's Fourth World ends at four omnibus editions and Eternals only fills two trades? Where OMAC is only eight issues! EIGHT! MY GOD!

So much missed opportunity... so many damn good comics...

In 30 minutes, I'll kick off the next topic as David Brothers and I discuss the idea of keeping up with other critics.

And my top ten comics of 2012 has kicked off with Prison Pit book four!

As well, we're up to $490.95 raised for the Hero Initiative! And it's only 10:30 in the morning. I can't believe it, honestly. That is stunning. Thank you.

[Don't forget to donate what you can to the Hero Initiative (Details in this post)! After you do, let me know via comment or e-mail (found at the righthand side) so I can keep track of donations -- and who to thank.]

Blogathon 03: Jack Kirby's Comics Work in the '70s (Tim Callahan Guest Post)

JACK KIRBY IN THE 1970s

A guest post by Tim Callahan

Before we get started on this -- your farewell to writing-about-comics for a while and the massive charity blogathon you’ve coordinated -- I’d just like to say that it’s been fun doing all those Splash Page discussions for the original Sequart website (now lost to the perils of poorly-hosted platforms) and beyond, and every time we sat down to do one of our many ephemeral Splash Page podcasts together, I always thought the conversation would run out of energy after an hour, but as soon as I checked the time, we’d be closing in on hour number three.

So you go off with your new wife and your new non-writing-about-comics-every-week hobbies and remember us from your vantage point on the horizon. But don’t you ever look back. Head toward the future, where happiness lives.

There’s nothing here for you.

Nothing but…Jack Kirby!

That’s right, we’re talking about Jack “The King” Kirby, Chad Nevett. How can you walk away from this stuff? This is the best of all the stuff in the entire history of stuff. Particularly because we aren’t just discussing Jack Kirby in theory. Or the Jack Kirby who co-created Captain America (let’s not get into that conversation again, you Sentinel of Libery loather). Or the Jack Kirby who helped invent romance comics. Or redefine monster comics. Or draw those strapping young men who lived on borrowed time. Or created most of the Marvel Universe.

No, today we’re talking about what really matters: Jack Kirby’s comics from the 1970s. The Bronze Age, according to some. I hereby decree it to be a Golden Age. A Golden Age of Jack Kirby amazingness.

By 1970, Jack Kirby had already been working in comics professionally for 32 years. Have you done anything, professionally or otherwise, for 32 years, Chad Nevett? No you have not. But Jack Kirby had been drawing comics that long by the time the disco decade began and here are just a few of his notable accomplishments as the 1960s gave way to the 1970s:

      (1)   He wrapped up his Thor run. That’s right. Thor! He basically created him and his entire world, too.

      (2)   He wrapped up his Fantastic Four run. After over 100 issues of building the Marvel Universe from the Mole Man to Galactus. Yeah. I know.

So, what does he do to top these never-before-or-since-rivaled feats?

Sticks his fingers and hands and brain inside the pages of a ridiculous and largely-ignored comic about Superman’s dorky sidekick and creates a brand new mythology called the Fourth World.

And that was just the beginning of the 1970s. This was Jack Kirby at his finest. Unrestrained by the six-panel grid of so much of his Marvel work. Unrestrained by Stan Lee’s insistence on making the stories connect to the human element. Unrestrained, even, by editing of any kind.

(Except his Superman faces. Those had to be redrawn because DC panicked and didn’t want Kirby-Superman sent out into the same world where kids had birthday parties with Superman paper plates. Kirby’s chiseled and grizzled Kal-El would have frightened the youngsters. Though it would have been for their own good.)

So, yes, in a 30-minute guest blog post I cannot delve too deeply into Jack Kirby’s awe-inspiring accomplishments in the 1970s. But I can highlight a few. And the New Gods and Forever People and Mister Miracle and Jimmy Olsen are just the beginning.

Those comics were taken from Jack Kirby. Or killed too soon. He had more to give each of those series, and in a world in which Neal Adams and pinko Green Arrow were gaining traction, Kirby was a relic of the past who was way ahead of his time. And DC didn’t know what they had until it was gone.

But even as the Fourth World comics were pulled out from under him, he didn’t stop. His follow-ups included The Demon and Kamandi. Had Jack Kirby not even created the Fourth World, and instead drifted away from Marvel to work on obscure side projects for other companies and if he had only released either the first few issues of The Demon or Kamandi, those comics would still be looked at today as particularly thrilling slices of artistry from a master at the top of his game. Jack Kirby couldn’t help but give birth to enormous mythologies, even when all he was asked to do was to fill pages with fight scenes and colorful villains. He created new characters instead of recycling his old ones. Every time.

But he still wasn’t done.

There was his take on the rag-tag soldiers known as The Losers, his reimagined dream-warrior Sandman, the unforgettable OMAC.

This is turning into a list, because I don’t know how else to address the sheer magnitude of his creations in such a limited amount of time. Jack Kirby in the 1970s deserves a multi-volume study, not a 30-minute post-and-response. But we make do with what we have, and remember Jack Kirby’s 1970s comics as the monuments that they are. Each one of them worthy of deeper exploration.

And, what’s that? There’s still more? His return to Marvel with 2001 and Machine Man and The Eternals and Black Panther and Captain America and Devil Dinosaur? Yes. Those. Perhaps not as cosmically thrilling as his work earlier in the decade, but close. His drawings continued to become more abstract. The chiseled superhero physiques gave way to increasingly Kirbyesque body architecture. I can’t look at his work from the period and not be enthralled by his choices and his unleashed energy.

Here’s my prescription to you, Chad Nevett, and to you readers at home: put some 1970s Kirby – any sort – by your nightstand and read a story or two every time you think you’re bored or annoyed or frustrated with comic books. These will either make you excited for more or remind you why you shouldn’t bother to search for anything else. They may not have all the answers, but 1970s Jack Kirby comics will make you rethink the questions.

[Don't forget to donate what you can to the Hero Initiative (Details in this post)! After you do, let me know via comment or e-mail (found at the righthand side) so I can keep track of donations -- and who to thank.]

Blogathon 02: Jack Kirby's Comics Work in the '70s (Part 1)

If Tim had pitched this topic to me a year ago, I wouldn't have had a lot to say. I'd read, what, Eternals and the first omnibus of Jack Kirby's Fourth World? In this past year, though, I've read the rest of the Fourth World, OMAC, and... okay, I meant to read his Captain America and Black Panther runs (they're on the middle shelf in the bookcase next to my bed!), but I've been busy. I've flipped through them plenty. So, basically, I haven't improved THAT much over the past year, but I don't feel like such a know-nothing loser.

My favourite Kirby '70s work is OMAC. Before reading that, I didn't quite understand why that concept kept coming back despite it failing every single time. Why was it one of the central pieces of Infinite Crisis? Why the new 52 relaunch (even though I really enjoyed it)? It's because Kirby crafted a genuinely amazing unfinished masterpiece. It ends mid-story after eight issues of all-out insanity. It was actually startling for me to read it, knowing Kirby more as the artist who worked with Stan Lee. Try going from early Avengers issues to OMAC. Jesus...

But, the big split comes down to Fourth World/Eternals. They're not the same concept by any stretch of the imagination, but they're related. They're clearly coming from a similar place inside. Kirby's love and interest in myth and legend -- in how these larger, god-like beings influence the world and, much of the time, deal with conflicts not unlike ours. What amazes me is that, after his experience at DC with the New Gods stuff, that he would try something... similar doesn't seem right... related(?) with Marvel. It's a scaled back attempt, of course. The Fourth World story happened over the course of four comics, including a Superman one, while Eternals was just one comic and originally meant to be separate from the Marvel Universe. And every attempt by Marvel to get Kirby to bring it into the Marvel Universe was rebuffed in some way -- like the Hulk turning out to be a robot. Reading the first issue of Eternals, it's something very different from what he did with the New Gods. Those characters were gods like Thor and the Asgardians -- big fights, bright costumes. Eternals had those, too, but not really in that first issue. It was centred around an archaelogical dig. It was people in regular clothes coming into contact with god-like beings that would determine the fate of the world.

New Gods shared that idea most out of the Fourth World books as Orion gets his own little gang of humans to help him out (for a while, at least). That intersection between myth and humanity is something Kirby was keen on. Earth was the battlefield of the New Genesis/Apokolips war... it was the petri dish of the Celestials... and, in both cases, humans were caught in the middle. But, some got to participate. It could be criminals like Intergang or regular citizens like the people Orion rescues and, then, befriends. There was an agency that Kirby gave to humans that were aware of the conflicts happening around (and above) them. It's a little cheesy at times, but, sometimes, it elevates humanity to level of these gods, these mythic figures. "The Death Wish of Terrible Turpin" is the best example of a human inserting himself into this conflict, unwilling to let these giant forces simply wreck his world. He may stand beside Orion by default, but there's a sense of outrage, of Turpin demanding both sides leave the planet. Threads like these are never the main point of Kirby's work during this time, but they keep coming up in small ways. He was in love with the idea of these mythic stories, of gods and demons, but he also recognised what their impact could be on humanity.

A few weeks ago, I finished the last Fourth World omnibus and couldn't get over how The Hunger Dogs didn't read like anything I had seen by Kirby before. It was so fragmented and poetic. So filled with bombast and, yet, moments of quiet... I know, I know, it's not from the '70s, so I'm cheating. I don't know... it's a sad book.

In 30 minutes, Tim Callahan's post will go up and will be much better than this. Also, my #10 comic of 2012 post will go up at Comics Should be Good.

[Don't forget to donate what you can to the Hero Initiative (Details in this post)! After you do, let me know via comment or e-mail (found at the righthand side) so I can keep track of donations -- and who to thank.]

Best of 2011: Ten Pre-2011 Comics that I Read in 2011

Something that always gets lost in the end of the year round-ups of the best comics published that year is the influence of past works upon the year. No one just reads brand new work the entire year and ignoring the comics from prior to the year in question gives an incomplete view of the year. When I used to run down my favourite albums of the year, I'd always do a section for the albums from prior years that I'd only just gotten that year. I figured I'd do the same for comics this year. Presented in alphabetical order are my ten favourite comics (or groups of comics) that I read in 2011 that were published prior to 2011.

Astonishing X-Men: Ghost Box, Astonishing X-Men: Exogenetic, and Astonishing X-Men: Xenogenesis by Warren Ellis, Simone Bianchi, Phil Jimenez, Kaare Andrews, and others. I honestly can't remember if I got Ghost Box this year or in late 2010. Let's just assume it was this past year to make things easier. These three trades comprise Warren Ellis's three stories on Astonishing X-Men and, if you're a fan of Ellis's writing, they're entertaining little stories where he treats the X-Men like the frontline response of an endangered species struggling to stay alive, protect the future, and fuck up anyone who crosses them. Not a take that everyone likes, but I really like it. Ellis's approach to the characters is very much in line with where Cyclops is right now and that's an interpretation of the character that I enjoy. Hell, it may be my favourite version of the character. Ellis also focuses heavily on genetics, alternate realities, and variations on the idea of a 'mutant.' He's paired with some good artists and is obviously just having some fun with the tools available.

'Breed: The Book of Genesis and 'Breed: The Book of Ecclesiastes by Jim Starlin. With Image publishing 'Breed III this year, they also put out trades of the first two 'Breed mini-series. The three volumes function together as a whole to tell one big story: Ray Stoner discovers, while serving as a soldier in Vietnam, that he's not human -- he's half human, half demon. Demons have been softening the world up for decades to make it right for them to come here and consume it. So, he must go against the demons and other 'breeds to try and destroy the leader of the demons, his own father. I didn't know much about 'Breed before reading 'Breed III and these trades made that a lot clearer. Jim Starlin has said that this is his favourite series and it's one that allows for a wide range of concepts and stories. He may have stuck to a fairly strict straight line, but, in there, is magic, sci-fi, war, romance, noir... basically, it's a series that accomodates everything. Hell, in 'Breed III, he brought in all of his other major creator-owned characters to help Stoner out! This was a major gap in my Starlin knowledge, now filled.

Elektra Lives Again by Frank Miller and Lynn Varley. I got one of the reprints that's regular comic size, something that Retailer Tim informed me was a mistake. Me, I'm just happy to have gotten a chance to read this story. Frank Miller applying some his later style to Matt Murdock and telling a story where Murdock wanders around not knowing what's really going on. It's a story about a superhero out of his depth and utterly ineffective. So much happens that we don't know about because we're so tied to Murdock. It's original and rather astonishing. And utterly gorgeous.

The Flash: The Trial of the Flash by Cary Bates, Carmine Infantino, and others. I got this because of Graeme and Jeff talking it up so much. One of those rare instances of DC using their 'Showcase Presents...' books to collect a big story rather than just X number of issues of a title. The story itself is a rather loose one throughout with a lot of the usual superhero bullshit popping up. What made the biggest impression upon me was how this changed my opinion of Barry Allen. Before this, I thought he was a boring, one-dimensional character. Now, I understand that he's a selfish asshole like every other Silver Age DC hero. One of the main subplots of the story revolves around Barry's fiancee going crazy because he stood her up on their wedding day -- where the Flash apparently killed the Reverse-Flash to save her life. Instead of just telling her that he's the Flash and he was late because he was fighting his arch-nemesis, he lets her get put in a mental hospital and, then, fakes his own death. Now, if this Barry Allen was the one currently in the DCU, I think I'd be much on board with the character. This was also my first extended exposure to Carmine Infantino's art. I know it's later in his career, but he made a lot of strange choices. Lots of slanted panels mixed with extreme close-ups that left you wonder what you were looking at. Very different from most superhero art.

Jack Kirby's Fourth World Omnibus Vol. 1 by Jack Kirby. DC has finally begun releasing these omnibi in softcover for those of us who missed the hardcovers. This first volume is mostly introductions and Jimmy Olsen comics. I rather like the way that Kirby was establishing his own little corner of the DCU with four comics, each offering a different perspective. He just hits the ground running and doesn't look back. The common thread through all four titles is Darkseid as he schemes to find the human who can comprehend the Anti-Life Equation. You can already see the connection to The Eternals, which was more focused and shied even further away from the superhero stuff. There isn't a lot of straight up superhero content in these comics aside from Superman. The New Gods all wear their costumes and have powers, but don't seem like 'superheroes.' I'm curious how those ideas will further develop over the next three volumes -- all of which I'd love to see released in 2012.

Various Hellblazer comics by Jamie Delano, Si Spencer, Peter Milligan, Ian Rankin, and a whole host of artists. I continue to own more Hellblazer comics than any other series. I added, what, nine trades, two original graphic novels, and a "Vertigo Resurrected" reprint to my collection this year? The bulk of that was comprised of comics written by the first Hellblazer writer and the current one, Jamie Delano and Peter Milligan. I don't buy single issues of Hellblazer much and, usually, wind up reading big chunks of issues. It's strange to read the beginning of the series and where it is now in the same year. John Constantine has changed quite a bit -- although not as much as you'd think. Jamie Delano's Constantine is a bit of fuck up and neophyte when it comes to magic. He knows some stuff and is a player, but he's got a lot to learn and is definitely not the biggest man on the block. By the time we get to Milligan, Constantine is the fucking man. Guys like Warren Ellis and Brian Azzarello wrote him in a way where magic wasn't a problem at all. He could almost do anything. His main problem is that he's a selfish bastard. Milligan amps that personality defect up to the point where it gets in the way of magic. Everything is so easy for him that he has to struggle with his true nature to not abuse his power -- and there are always types of magic out there that he still knows shitall about. Milligan's version of the character is one that definitely goes back to its roots. Before 2011, I'd read more Hellblazer comics than any other series (probably) and, yet, I was missing a big chunk of what makes the character who he is. And I'm still missing stuff. Bring on 2012.

Pretty much the complete Marshal Law by Pat Mills and Kevin O'Neill. I already owned some of Marshal Law and read most of what I didn't own since my dad had them when I was growing up. But, this year, I bought everything I didn't have and read the entire run of mini-series and graphic novels, including the two novellas Mills and O'Neill did. It's funny how influential these comics were (something that's still not recognised really, even though everyone who writes about them mention how influential they were) and, yet, how, with each progressive series, they became more childish, more self-parodic, and less influential. That doesn't mean that they stop being 'good,' just that there isn't much new said after the initial six-issue series. There are small moments in the rest that add to the good Marshal's character or further explore the concepts of abuse of power, guilt, and sense of betrayal by the government and superheroes. That the character is continually pushed to the point where, in the novellas, he suffers a full psychotic break between his 'real life' as Joe and his 'night life' as Marshal Law. Towards the end, neither Mills nor O'Neill seem to care as much. And why would they? What is there to say in a crossover with the Mask except that no matter what, Marshal Law is the dominant personality? They even forego the usual parodies by the end. How long can you keep making the same jokes? The Boys found some more to make, but even those grew tired at times. It's funny that, by the end, Marshal Law returned, in a sense, to where it began: focusing on broader statements and the characters, not worrying about sticking it to specific superheroes.

100 Bullets by Brian Azzarello and Eduardo Risso. I don't know what to say about this. I read this series for the first time in a week? Maybe less? It's all kind of a blur. A blur that I really enjoyed, which is why I read through it so quickly. A big series about violence and power that was every bit as good as everyone told me it would be. The way that it mixed in the larger story with the smaller contained elements, building on what came before was impressive. I'd read a few things that Risso had drawn before, but prolonged exposure to his art was something entirely different. Watching him build the world and characters with Azzarello, making the visuals matter as much as the writing (more in places). I think that's part of what makes these longterm Vertigo series work for me: a strong, consistent visual voice. It's part of what makes Preacher and Transmetropolitan so great -- and part of the reason why The Invisibles is always lacking to a degree for me. If there's one comic I want to reread in 2012, it's 100 Bullets. A slower read where I can take my time and really think about things as I go.

Ronin by Frank Miller and Lynn Varley. Another comic that my dad had and I'd flipped through a bit. I'd never read it proper. Bought the original issues cheap this year and... wow, this is Frank Miller throwing everything he can on the page. Every influence, every bit of craziness, all of it is just tossed out like this could be the last comic book he ever gets to make. And why not? It was his chance to do six issues of a comic where he wasn't stuck working with decades of continuity and expectations -- these were his characters, his world, and he didn't slow down or back off of anything. You can see the grotesque side of his art coming out in places here and that's the Miller I like best. I like the messy, ugly Miller. This isn't my favourite work of his yet... probably not top five. But, I've only read it once and moved on. It was a busy year of catching up after finally getting a full time job. Hopefully, I'll get the chance soon to go back and slow down, give it the look it deserves. Hell, I can say that for everything here, can't I?

Silver Surfer: Parable by Stan Lee and Moebius. I buy the issues and Marvel decides to put out a new collection a few months later. That's my sort of luck. I'm great at hunting down original issues only for a collection to be announced within the year. Anyway... The original issues didn't age well (which is why I'm getting the upcoming hardcover). Not the best way to read this series for the first time -- still, Moebius art on shitty paper is still better than no Moebius art at all, right? His Silver Surfer is just so casual on his board. It's not an intense riding the waves look. It's a guy who stands completely secure in who he is and what's going on. He looks like a guy standing on a street corner waiting for the bus, not someone flying an insane speeds hundreds of feet in the air. It's one of those odd approaches to a character that changes how you see them. I wound up looking at these two issues every day for a few weeks. Just flipping through them, checking out a panel here, a panel there. I did the same thing with that Incal hardcover that came out with the original colouring. Moebius is one of those artists whose work I can spend hours lingering over.

The Sunday Open: 17/02/08 Comics

One of the reasons why I've avoided making weekly treks to the comic shop is that I spend more money that way. Where I'll only buy books I normally pick up and the odd take-a-chancer when I hit the shop once a month, I find I'm much more willing to just buy whatever looks good if I'm there every week. Now, that's bad news for my wallet, but it also means I'm checking out a whole lot more. So, let's jump into it:

Fantastic Four #554

Wow, what a boring comic. I have zero to no interest in books that simply revel in the typical, which this book does. But then again, others would simply call that showing us these characters as they were back in the glory days. My last experience with the title was the Waid/Wieringo run, which I got in hardcovers... and, yeah, why has Johnny Storm reverted back to his pre-teen self? How fucking boring. And look at Reed being actually boring! Or Ben being fun! Normally, I enjoy books with little action and lots of character development--except there is no character development here, it's all just character re-enforcement, which is all well and good, but why am I spending three bucks on a comic that's telling me things I already know?

Not a huge fan of Bryan Hitch's art here, if only because of last week's ClanDestine where Alan Davis shows up his imitator. That, and Hitch tries to make every panel look so unique as far as facial expressions go that they become almost parodic at times. Something about Johnny's face on page five just seems wrong...

I don't know, it seems like a comic more intent on recapturing old FF stories/moments than actually doing something new (aside from Sue's charity project, which is a fantastic idea, honestly). Even the so-called "cliffhanger" doesn't do anything for me, because there isn't enough information there to create an interest or any tension. (And, seriously, "Nu-World"? "Nu"? How utterly modern.)

Fantastic Four: The Lost Adventure

Remember when this was announced and everyone was all "OMG! NU KIRBY! KEWL!" and then everyone promptly forgot? That's probably for the best. This is a book for scholars, Kirby obsessors and... well, not many other people, because it isn't that good. But, don't worry, because everyone involved seems to recognise the lack of quality in this "lost adventure" that was meant to be Fantastic Four #102--Stan Lee ran #103 as #102 and then cannabalised this story in #108. It isn't bad, it's just utterly mundane. The way Marvel has put this book together, though, is pretty nice. They include a reconstructed version of the original #102, Kirby's original pencils along with his border notes and then #108 so we can see how his art was used. Not much entertainment value, but there's probably an essay or two's worthy of material in this book.

Ghost Rider #20

Tim Callahan hyped this book up so much I couldn't not get it. I don't think I've ever picked up an issue of Ghost Rider before in its various iterations. Never had much interest. But, Tim said it was all kinds of awesome and I tend to listen to Tim.

While it doesn't live up to his hype (what could?), this is a very impressive debut for Jason Aaron on the title. He establishes the book firmly within the horror/grindhouse genre and sets up the overarching story of Ghost Rider trying to get to Heaven to take revenge on an angel who was really responsible for his condition. Throw in some nurses with guns and tearing up a church and it's a lot of fun. Worth picking up--if only for Aaron's text piece at the end of the issue where he both bashes, but condones the previous creative team.

New Avengers #38

Now, this is what I'm talking about. After months of mediocre issues, Bendis finally delivers with an issue-long fight between Luke Cage and Jessica Jones after she's registered in order to keep their daughter out of harm's way. Is it a coincidence that Michael Gaydos does the art in this fantastic issue? Probably not.

I can understand that this type of issue isn't everyone's cup of tea as nothing "happens" except the breakdown of a marriage between two characters we're supposed to care about. What I find especially intriguing is that Bendis doesn't try to take sides, he simply presents the characters' points of view and the reader can decide who is right and who is wrong. As well, this is the first time I've really seen the fallout of Civil War in an emotional way (okay, maybe the death of Captain America, too). Yeah, we've had the New Avengers square off with the Mighty Avengers, but who cares. This was the first post-Civil War switch that actually means something (sorry, Spider-Woman, but who cares about you when you switch sides the way most people change underwear?).

Next issue promises the truth about Echo, which should, I hope, clear up how a deaf woman can read the lips of people wearing masks... or not actually facing her...

Spider-Man Family #7

The Mike Wieringo tribute story by Mark Waid, Todd Dezago and Karl Kesel--who also draws the story in a cartoony style similar to that of Wieringo. I'm actually surprised at how overlooked this issue is--and a little bothered that they'd stick the tribute story in this comic, mostly filled with reprints of old, bad Spider-Man comics (I'm talking stuff from the '90s--like the first issue of a Venom mini-series). When I heard about it, I made a mental note to keep my eye out for the issue and, thankfully, I remembered.

The story itself isn't anything worldshattering, but it's a lot of fun in the best ways. The Looter wants to find the twin of his beloved meteorite and this leads Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four and Dr. Strange on a wild goose chase to the Savage Land and a few other places. The Looter is a great character: a man in love with a green shard of rock that he actually talks to--and there's a moment when Spider-Man has it and he talks to it and I immediately wondered if maybe the Looter isn't so crazy and the rock can talk to whoever holds it. Probably not, but a cool idea.

What impressed me the most about this story is how some of the heroes see that the Looter is a man who needs help and treat him with compassion as such. They see a crazy guy who isn't really bad, just a little deranged and take steps to subdue him in non-violent ways.

The rest of Spider-Man Family is, as I said, reprints and I didn't read any of them. I may read the Spider-Manga reprint since I've never read one before.

Wolverine #62

Shit, this is the 7th issue of Wolverine I've gotten in a row--the first being Jason Aaron's excellent one-off story with Howard Chaykin. Marc Guggenheim's run wasn't that great, but since I did enjoy Aaron's take on the character so much in that one-off issue, I figured I'd give this a look. I mean, Wolverine hunting down Mystique... hard to fuck that up, eh?

This is a solid issue with a few cool bits, especially the way Aaron makes it seem that Logan has gone over the edge in his hunt for Mystique--a shapeshifter, which would cause a lot of problems no doubt. The end of the issue is nice, too. I'll be picking up the rest of this arc.

Fantastic Comics #24

The first "next issue project" release from Image where creators do the next issue of a Golden Age title. It's a nice idea and good gimmick for an anthology. But, like most anthologies, the results are not always the greatest. Most of the stories in this issue are mediocre. Erik Larson's "Samson" story is serviceable, but nothing special. As are Tom Scioli's "Space Smith" and Andy Khun's "Yank Wilson." Those three stories read like bonus features for the main events, namely Joe Casey and Bill Sienkiewicz's "Flip Falcon in the Fourth Dimension" and Ashley Wood's "Sub Saunders."

Big surprise, I know, me digging on the Joe Casey and Ashley Wood stories--but there's a reason why I dig these guys' work... they deliver some killer stuff. "Flip Falcon" has Casey play around with the idea of time travel in a cool way, while also having the character transcend his old boundaries. It reads like a very well-written preview for an ongoing series where the Golden Age character is a jumping off point. It seems that reusing these public domain characters is the current "thing" and this is the first time I've seen someone do something new and interesting with one. None of this "wake up in the modern world and show us how it's done" bullshit--it's take one of those cool mindfuck concepts and push it into the 21st century. Fucking right.

Ashley Wood's Sub Saunders story is obtuse and difficult to understand since it features mostly black panels and German dialogue, but when you figure it out, it's a fun little ending to the issue. Especially the introduction of an android named... AUTOMATED KEATS! Okay, I may as well explain it: Wood makes fun of using these old characters instead of creating new ones. He referneces Automatic Kafka as that was a character he and Casey took off the board to avoid things like this project. At least, that's what I took from the story.

The only other story of note is the "Stardust" one with Mike Allred on art. It's a pretty typical "the modern world sucks and the old heroes knew how to do" story that I'm surprised Alex Ross didn't have some involvement in.

I will probably pick up future volumes of the "next issue project" because it is a fun read, even the bad stories. Although, after that Wood story, can I really do it with a clear conscience? Hoo-ha.