Them Guys Ain’t Dumb 01 (AXE: Judgment Day #1)

What I’m struck most by is the economy of the issue. The efficiency. A modern superhero event comic is an exercise in efficiency. The old maxim of “arrive late, leave early” taken further than it probably should is the rule of thumb. A balance is attempted between telling a story that stands on its own for those that just want the main event, and one that leaves enough space for the various tie-ins to feel important when they fill in the gaps. I think Kieron Gillen hits that balance, albeit in an unexpected manner by both putting as much dialogue and narration into the issue as possible, overlapping scenes, and leaving large tie-in-sized gaps. There are a lot of words on the pages as the goal is to both tell this new story, while also providing enough history and context for that story to make sense to those who haven’t been following the X-line and Eternals. And, more than Gillen, what really makes it work is Valerio Schiti’s layouts and line art. This is an information-heavy issue that requires a lot of dense pages and he pulls off his balance act between fitting it all in and making it look good quite well.

Given that this is a superhero comic, surprisingly, it’s the big action scenes that get cut down the most. There are three possible action scenes in the issue: the Avengers’ surprise attack on Sersi (the most Avengers-friendly Eternal, particularly since she was once on the team); the Eternals’ surprise attack on Krakoa (the mutant island nation); and Uranos’s surprise attack on Arakko (Mars). The first lasts a page; the second takes place over, roughly, six-and-a-half pages (over 20% of the comic, to be fair, though one page is mostly the end/retreat of the Eternals) interspersed with Druig discussing the plan; and the third is three panels of the attack about to happen and then only implications from Druig and the aftermath.

The Avengers’ attack on Sersi doesn’t come off as truncated in any way. It’s quick and brutal in its violence, meant to incapacitate the Eternal before she can mount any defense. This action scene is given exactly the right amount of space to convey what it needs to.

The Eternals’ attack on Krakoa, while taking up a sizeable amount of the issue still feels slight and rushed. Much of the action is implied through carefully chosen images and Druig walking Moira MacTaggert through the plan back in Los Angeles. The two overt attack fronts, psychic and physical, are given introductory panels, while the true point of the attack, the covert attempt to have Jack of Knives kill the Five (thereby ending the mutants’ ability to resurrect their dead) is given two full pages, bringing its importance to the forefront. A solid third of the space given this action scene is devoted to a detailed showing of Jack of Knives already killing Egg and being stopped by Wolverine before he can also kill Hope. Much of the rest of the space is divided between large establishing panels of the other two fronts (the appearance of the Uni-Mind to attack the telepaths of Krakoa and their counterattack, or the X-Men coming through a gate to engage the Eternals in their war armour). So much of the action is implied – and it’s almost taken as a rule that readers have seen enough of these fights to fill in the gaps themselves. But, they’re also not necessarily important fights. They were distractions and the focus on Jack of Knives and Wolverine makes it clear where our attention should be focused. There are two main reasons given as justification for the Eternals to attacks the mutants under the reasoning of “correct excess deviation,” their third principle: mutants have, effectively, become immortal, and their colonisation of Mars. This entire attack on Krakoa is the attempt to eliminate their ability to resurrect the dead.

While Druig sending Uranos to Arakko is the attempt to destroy the off-Earth colony. Aside from three brief panels of the very beginning of the attack, we only see the aftermath of Uranos’s decimation of Arakko in this issue. Uranos the Undying is the former leader of the Eternals whose attempt to take “correct excess deviation” to its frighteningly logical conclusion caused a civil war and resulted in him spending the subsequent millennia in the Exclusion. He is ancient, he is cruel, he is the monster that Thanos aspires to be. So much of his power as a character comes from implication. He’s so dangerous that Druig has programmed the Machine to ensure he’s returned to the Exclusion after sixty minutes no matter what. He is built up as a monstrous living weapon that Druig has deployed against Arakko.

The three brief panels of the beginning of the attack go from calm to panic immediately, followed by Druig countering Moira’s point about the danger of Arakko with its “over a million mutants from a war-torn existence, hardened by centuries of siege,” by smirking over his shoulder, “For starters, there’ll be a lot less than a million by now...” That’s all we get of the attack until its over. First, Nightcrawler barely makes it back to Krakoa, the Five resurrect Cable (who died on Arakko) and he demands to know what happened, which cuts to a page of Uranos on Arakko, counting down his final seconds before he returns to the Exclusion. He holds Cable’s skull in his hand, crushes it and blows away the dust before walking away from a pile of bones that include Magneto’s helmet, and the page ends with a large shot of a barren destruction with huge dust clouds and a blotted-out sun, the remains of what Uranos did in an hour: “I gazed at stars. I killed.” The page of Uranos counting down as we get to see the aftermath of his attack is fantastic work by Schiti and colourist Marte Garcia. The use of close-up shots before pulling back in the final two panels teases out just how bad it was, while the overwhelming tinge of red both reminds us of where we are, but also gives it all a sickly feeling of death.

The specifics are left intentionally blank, for two reasons. Firstly, as I said, Uranos gains power as a character the more we see the effects of his actions without the actions themselves. He practically destroyed all of Arakko in an hour. By himself. Seeing that happen wouldn’t necessarily take away from the character, but not showing it only enhances him. Moreover, it adds to the dramatic impact of the issue where the attack we saw the most of was the unsuccessful one. The Eternals took a shot at Krakoa and didn’t pull off what they wanted, and we saw that failure... whereas, their other attack was more successful than we would expect and we only see the effects.

Secondly, by not showing Uranos’s attack on Arakko leaves a large gap for tie-in issues to fill. From the looks of things, that will be X-Men Red #5’s focus. Gillen has talked up that issue a little and, if it does indeed show what happened on Arakko when Uranos the Undying came, it now has a lot to live up to. Now, Uranos’s attack has certain expectations in our heads for its brutality – it will have to be something akin to The Infinity Gauntlet #4 with the sheer ineffectiveness of all defence against this monster of a god that rains down nothing but death on everything in his path. I’m actually quite excited to see if it can be pulled off... (The only other tie-in that looks to come out prior to issue two of Judgment Day is Immortal X-Men #5, written by Gillen, and, I imagine will expand upon the Krakoa attack. When I say “I imagine,” that’s only because I didn’t read too many of the solicitations for upcoming issues of the event. Beyond my usual not reading solicitations of comics I’m going to buy anyway, I made a specific effort with a lot of the Judgment Day issues written by Gillen, as I want to remain as fresh as possible going into each one. I did glance a bit more at some of the tie-ins... mostly to see how much they look to balance between doing their own thing and working with the event.)

*

There are a little over four panels per page. Only 13 panels are without words and are all silent for specific effects (violence, important moments of emotion, the destruction of Arakko, the emergence of the Hex...). Kieron Gillen, to get across all of the information, writes a lot of dialogue in this issue, probably more than I’ve seen from him in quite a while. Pages are plastered with word balloons, no doubt to his complete frustration and best efforts to cut them all down to the essentials (how many puns were lost to the chopping block?). Even the seemingly ‘inessential’ bits of dialogue serve to introduce characters and their personalities. So much of the dialogue is a balance between infodump and advancing agendas and perspectives. A standard question that writers try to ask and answer is “What does the character want?” With Gillen, I usually find that the question posed is “What is their agenda?” A subtle difference that doesn’t just take into account what they want, but what their current goal is (and how it may conflict with their true desire). For example, does Druig want to eliminate the mutants? Sure, but only as a means to solidify his power. He wants to eliminate the mutants, to “correct excess deviation,” but it must happen under his terms and in a manner that showcases his brilliance as Eternal Prime.

What Valerio Schiti does best, in this issue, is convey the overwhelming chaos of what’s happening. When the issue gets going as the Eternals attack, it’s chaotic, jumping between Krakoa and Los Angeles, and Schiti somehow fits it all on the pages, gives it a flow, and also does some fine character work in the process. Things like Jack of Knives’s body language and facial expressions, which we get for all of three panels tell us a lot about his flamboyant personality in comparison to the brutal aggression of Wolverine (and in comparison to his supposed attempt to remain completely hidden). Or the wide array of expressions that Druig makes throughout the issue... language is his tool, including body language. What apparent is that a lot of thought was put into laying out these pages so the issue would flow and confusion would be minimal, but, then, once that macro task was done, Schiti put a lot of thought into the micro of each panel.

The choices of Marte Garcia intrigued me throughout. Like the way Uranos is coloured when we get the first big reveal of him in the Exclusion with his head/face obscured a bit. Or the way the X-Men are coloured in a manner that feels a little incongruent with the issue, harkening back visually to his previous work on the X-titles, particularly reminding me of work with Pepe Larraz. I’m really struck by how individual panels and the approach to the colours bring out possible influences. Like when the Eternals first appear in their armour, the blues and pinks and yellows with the green energy somehow add a Jim Lee quality to Schiti’s depiction of the Eternal in the front. Or, there’s a panel where Schiti’s framing of Druig combined with the colours remind me of Olivier Coipel’s version of Xavier back in Avengers vs. X-Men... just a bunch of little connections that may or may not be there, but flare up for me...

*

The issue begins with a splash page of a generic ‘day in New York’ shot of tall buildings and cars and people walking as, presumably, the not-yet-created new god of the Eternals narrates/speaks to humanity. The issue ends the same way, albeit with the narration occurring over a shot of the dead Celestial that makes up Avengers Mountain. This narration spells out the large idea of the event: “Who are the heroes here?” It’s a fair question, one that reminds me of Avengers vs. X-Men (and, honestly, many modern Marvel events, as the recurring theme seems to be hero fighting hero). Who were the heroes of that event? As a reader, I thought that the stronger case was made for the X-Men, specifically Cyclops, as the heroes; the writers of that event, though, seemed to think that the Avengers were the heroes and the plot played out accordingly. I can’t help but be curious if this event will play out similarly. Will I consider one set of characters the heroes, while Kieron Gillen and company will think that a different set are? In AvX, given that the plot revolved so heavily around mutant-specific concerns and ideas, it was hard for them not to come out as sympathetic and in the right; the Avengers wound up being generic agents of the status quo. Here... well, it’s not clear yet.

Who is/are the hero/heroes of Judgment Day #1?

There aren’t any good options, to be frank. It’s not the X-Men/mutants of Krakoa. At best, they’re victims that suffer horrible loss while managing to avoid even greater tragedies. It’s not the Avengers. At best, they’re bystanders who are playing catchup, standing in for the reader as both providers of exposition and receivers. It’s not Sersi and the other Eternals that have left Eternals society as, like the Avengers, they’re bystanders (and only Sersi actually appears in this issue). It’s not Ajak and Makkari as they only appear at the end with pivotal roles to play, just not yet.

That leaves Druig. Druig the schemer. Druig the leader looking for a common enemy to solidify his position. Druig who let loose Uranos the Undying. We spend a lot of the issue with Druig talking about his plans. He uses his voice as a tool. He manages to portray himself (and the rest of the Eternals by association) as a hero to humanity, advertising his newfound war on mutantkind. He is the closest thing we have to both a protagonist and a hero in this issue. Somehow, I don’t think that will be the case by the final issue.

Especially as Ajak and Makkari know the true purpose of the Eternals and Druig doesn’t. The Eternals were created by the Celestials to keep the Deviants from destroying themselves and humanity so that, over time, the two would intertwine their genetics until a stable hybrid of the two could occur. Now, I know I’m not the only one who read the infograph page in Eternals #12 outlining this plan and had a word pop into their head... right?

In two weeks: Immortal X-Men #5 and X-Men Red #5.

Them Guys Ain't Dumb 00 (Free Comic Book Day 2022: Avengers/X-Men #1, X-Men: Hellfire Gala #1, Immortal X-Men #4, and A.X.E.: Eve of Judgment #1)

 

“All of which is to say that Kieron Gillen is the secret weapon writer of Avengers vs. X-Men. He wrote the lead-in, the lead-out, and some fairly good tie-in issues. He even wrote the expanded Hope/Scarlet Witch fight in AVX: VS #6. He’s like the Fifth Beatle of the event. He’s quiet and works around the edges, and, ultimately, makes all of the best points.”

—Riding the Gravy Train, Chad Nevett

Ten years ago, we were about halfway through Avengers vs. X-Men, the ‘years in the making’ event lead-up by ‘The Architects,’ a group of five writers seen as Marvel’s best and brightest. The main series was 12 issues with three of the architects writing two issues (Matt Fraction, Ed Brubaker, and Jonathan Hickman), while the other two wrote three each (Brian Michael Bendis and Jason Aaron) along with a slew of tie-ins across the Avengers and X-Men lines, including a title solely devoted to fights titled AVX: VS. It was a massively overblown affair that purported to pay off several long-running plotlines, most notably the Scarlet Witch’s “No more mutants” moment from House of M, a previous event, that dropped the mutant population down to less than 200. It marked Bendis’s transition from Avengers writer to X-Men writer, while Jason Aaron would begin his landmark Thor run, Jonathan Hickman would take over Avengers and chart the course towards Secret Wars, Matt Fraction would take over Fantastic Four with an eye towards the Inhumans, and Ed Brubaker would quietly finish up his longstanding work on Captain America and depart completely to creator-owned comics and TV/film work.

It also marked the end of Kieron Gillen’s time as writer of Uncanny X-Men. Maybe I’m remembering things differently from my current perspective, but there was a feeling at the time that Gillen was going to be the next ‘big writer’ at Marvel. He had done some minor runs, picking up where J. Michael Straczynski left off in Thor and made the book his own before transitioning to the Kid Loki-centric Journey into Mystery, which was quite the cult hit. At the same time, he went from Generation Hope where he defined the first group of new mutants post-M Day to writing Uncanny X-Men post-Schism after a period of co-writing with Fraction. Add in his creator-owned bonafides and, as absurd as this sounds when I write it, hailing from England, and he seemed like the Next Big Thing.

And he was. Just not in the way that I (and others?) thought at the time. He took over Iron Man and... well, that’s a book that no one seems to talk about much (cue critical reappraisal in three, two, one), did Young Avengers with Phonogram partner Jamie McKelvie and everyone still talks about that, co-wrote Angela’s solo title, continuing his surprisingly large body of Asgardian work, and did some Star Wars comics that I assume loads of people read (I guess I’m underselling how big a deal it was at the time for him to write Darth Vader – and, then, co-create an insanely popular character in Doctor Aphra and launch her solo title). But, as all of those things eventually wrapped, his time at Marvel kind of came to an end without any super high profile non-Galaxy Far Far Away titles. From the outside, it seemed mostly by design on Gillen’s part as he skewed heavily to creator-owned work (I think some folks have heard of Wicked + Divine and Die). It seems like a move that decreased his profile in some places, while only making him an even bigger deal within the circles I run in. Somehow, he seemed to get more popular after leaving the likes of the X-Men and Darth Vader behind.

And this is a gross oversimplification of everything, of course. Let’s take the last ten years of the man’s career and cram it all into a couple of glib paragraphs...

Anyway...

2021 began with the release of Eternals #1, Gillen’s big return to Marvel with artists Esad Ribic and Matthew Wilson. Partly another redefinition of Jack Kirby’s characters that seem to get another redefinition every decade or so, partly a response to some of what Jonathan Hickman had done with the X-titles, and just a gorgeous book (you saw the art team, right?), it felt like Gillen was returning with some swagger. He had left Marvel, done some very good comics, and was returning to tackle a title that always failed with a show of utter confidence stylistically. Over the ensuing year-and-a-bit, Gillen, Ribic, Wilson, and a few other talented artists would make, for me, consistently the best Marvel comic. Gillen built upon the mythos of the Eternals, added depth and tragedy into their core, and also brought clarity (of a sorts) to their purpose. He also wrote a Thanos that I didn’t hate (except in the ways I was meant to).

Then, he succeeded Jonathan Hickman on X-Men by writing Immortal X-Men post-Inferno, Hickman’s exit (for now?) from the X-line. Focusing on the Quiet Council, Krakoa’s ruling body, Immortal X-Men is the quasi-lead title of the line with, probably, X-Men as the only other contender. A bit over nine years after ending his time on Uncanny X-Men, he was back.

And the announcement of Judgment Day soon followed. Or, as I called it to only my own amusement: “Avengers vs. X-Men 2: Vs. Eternals.” A decade after he was the “secret weapon writer” of Avengers vs. X-Men, Gillen would be writing an event book at Marvel, coming directly out of Eternals (literally) and tying into Immortal X-Men (presumably), it seemed... shockingly well-conceived as far as events go. A lot of events spring up out of nowhere, while this one was, literally, an Eternals story taken to a larger scale and involving characters Gillen had just began writing again.

Before the event proper begins, we’ve gotten four lead-in books of varying importance to give us some idea of what this event will be about. The basic premise is this: Druig is the new Eternal Prime and, looking to make his mark, has turned his eye towards the mutants of Krakoa. One of the Eternals’ principles is “correct excess Deviation” and Druig is viewing mutantkind as a form of Deviant, and their mastering resurrection and colonising Mars as signs of excessive Deviation. So, the mutants must die.

Given that we know this as the premise and this is an event book, we know there will be a twist (or several) coming. Gillen delivers a couple in the most important of these lead-in books, Eve of Judgment. Druid attempts to destroy Krakoa completely with a bomb beneath the island as an efficient manner in eliminating most of the mutants. This strategy, however, falls afoul of one of the other Eternals’ principles: “protect the Machine.” The Machine being planet Earth and, somehow, Krakoa is an essential part of the Machine. It’s a clever little hand-wave away of the obvious and simple solution where Druig accomplishes his goal before the event even begins, thus negating the need for the event. The lead-in ends with him going to his grandfather, Uranos, for assistance. (Uranos, he was a former ruler of the Eternals and sought to “correct excess Deviation” through massive, genocidal methods. He has been in the Exclusion (Eternals jail) ever since the other Eternals stopped him. He appeared in the Free Comic Book Day comic advising a younger Odin (who then led a version of the Avengers) that they were going to wipe out a primitive primate that had developed a telepathic hive mind, if you needed a bit of foreshadowing for the event.)

Another major seed planted is that two Celestial Priests, Ajak and Makkari recently invaded Avengers Mountain (aka a giant dead Celestial body), learned the truth of the Eternals’ existence and mission, and have decided to build their own, new god. In Eve of Judgment, they obtain Phastos’s freedom from the Exclusion to gain his insight into their project. While he objects strongly to their plan, he can’t help but slip the feasibility of it, leaving the two ready to proceed with creating a new god(/Celestial?). Oh, and they kidnapped Mister Sinister at the end of Immortal X-Men #4 to help somehow. This is one of the more difficult plot to foresee in how it will develop over the course of the event. We know that Celestials will be involved and there will be judgment... but... what Celestials?

There are also “The Lemurian Mission” Eternals made up of the Eternals that most people know and associate with the title: Ikaris, Sersi, Thena, Kingo, Phastos, and Khoryphos. These are Eternals that, upon learning that their resurrections happen at the price of a mortal’s life, have gone to the Deviants to try and find a new way to live and be Eternals. They don’t want to carelessly crash through life, causing nothing but pain and death. We see them helping to rebuild Lemuria after Thanos’s attack. What role will they play in the event?

And, on the other side are the Devia—sorry, mutants. Krakoa’s secret of resurrection has been exposed, the mutant-hating group Orchis continues to find new ways to attack, aided by Doctor Stasis, a Mister Sinister lookalike (save for the clubs symbol on his forehead in place of a diamond) that claims to be the real deal, and the robotic Moira MacTaggert who now seeks the destruction of all mutants. At the same time, Destiny has seen many possible futures, and Mister Sinister has been using clones of Moira to replicate her ability to ‘reset reality’ when he feels the need to give things another go. The revelation of their resurrection abilities has placed the nation in a weirdly defensive position just as their were trying to champion the good their drugs have done the world in a bid for further recognition. And they don’t even know Druig and the Eternals are coming for them...

All that leaves are the Avengers. Much like in Avengers vs. X-Men, the group seems like a secondary concern here (tertiary even). In the Hellfire Gala one-shot, there are some Tony Stark scenes that seek to position the Avengers as apathetic bystanders, unwilling to step into mutant affairs except when it’s to contain them. As I said a decade ago, I’m not a fan of using past mutant tragedies against the Avengers given that the true reason for the lack of Avengers assistance is that it would make for less interesting comics. If every time the X-Men and other mutants got into trouble, the Avengers showed up to rescue them, readers would (rightly) tune out. The Avengers didn’t stop Genosha because the story needed the destruction of Genosha to happen. To, once again, frame that as something character-based strikes me as disingenuous and misguided. But, I’ll admit, it’s hard to reconcile the characters with their lack of action within the world of these stories. Basically, the real world needs to craft interesting stories for mutants can’t help but position the Avengers and other non-mutant heroes as anti-mutant by implication.

Which is to say that the Avengers will appear in this event in some capacity. They recently tangled with the Lumurian Mission Eternals when Ajak and Makkari sought to commune with the dead Celestial that the Avengers currently live in, so there is a connection between those two groups as well. As it stands, this event is currently skewed towards an Eternals/X-Men conflict with the Avengers in the middle somewhere. Looking at the slate of tie-ins, the Avengers side of things is fairly light, though, so we’ll see how much of a factor they really are given the large multiverse story Jason Aaron is currently building in his two titles.

What I’m really looking forward to is how Kieron Gillen handles his first event. After doing so many tie-ins and assists for other events, most notably the excessive story bolstering work in Avengers vs. X-Men, it’s exciting to see him get a chance at his own event finally. He comes off as someone who has thought long and hard about how to approach something like this, structuring the main series and story in a way where there’s freedom for others to join in and expand upon certain plot points. Moreover, he’s writing a large chunk of the overall event. If you go off the checklist at the back of Eve of Judgment, there are 37 comics listed; from what I can tell, Gillen is writing 18 of them, basically half. For an event this size, that’s an incredibly large proportion of the comics and speaks to how much this event is driven by him. I think we’re in for a treat with a talented, smart writer like Gillen telling this story on such a large canvass.

Next: Judgment Day #1.

"I don't want it to end." On King Thor #4

The other day, for some reason or another, I went back and read my CBR review of Young Liars #18. It was the final issue and I gave it five stars and the review was part celebration of a comic series that I really connected with and felt passionately about, part giant fuck y’all to everyone who wasn’t on board with it. I haven’t read that series since it ended. I should go back and give it a look, I think. I believe there have been final issues I’ve liked a lot since that one, but it’s what stands out for me when I think of final issues that really landed.

It didn’t take long for me to realise that Jason Aaron stuck the landing. Page seven cemented it for me. King Thor is going to die in a black hole of Gorr (literally) and the narration breaks down his lifelong struggles with self-worth, depression, all of his inner demons, and how he always hoped he’d overcome them some day. Except that day never comes – will never come. “You only learn to better live with the demons. To channel the rage and shame. To be the storm.” All while Thor yells for his father, about how Odin was right, how Thor wasn’t strong enough, worthy enough, and... I almost lost it there.

 

This isn’t a perfect comic. The middle section is Jason Aaron being Jason Aaron in a way that kind of makes me roll my eyes with Thor as cop or Thor as living planet or Thor as whatever the fuck. But, as much as I’ve lost my patience for that sort of things over the years (the Age of Awesome is behind us, I’d like to think), I can’t help but appreciate that there’s room for it in this issue. Aaron gonna Aaron, y’know?

 

It’s a big issue that packs everything in. Everything is tied up or addressed (oh, except for the odd thing, but, as the comic points out, there’s power in untold stories, so more about Volstagg and Roz will have to wait). The future, the past, the fate of Loki, the fate of Thor... the idea of Thor. The spirit of thunder.

 

It’s a little too fresh to really take in. This is becoming a fragmented thing and I didn’t want that. I wanted to, somehow, sum it all up and say something meaningful.

 

I guess I’ll go back to that seventh page.

 

Back when I began this newsletter, I said that part of my goal is trying to figure out why I feel such an affinity for Thor. I don’t feel worthy a lot. I’m very critical of myself, hate most of what I say, and seem to spend much of my time cringing at myself in real time. The more self-aware I become, the more I’m able to both overcome this and fall prey to it. I spend a lot of time wondering what the right thing to do is; the right thing to say; the right way to feel. What’s allowed, what’s too much, what’s too little, what’s appropriate, what’s not. Usually, I try to console myself with the idea that the struggle is enough; that I question myself and my actions and my thoughts and my feelings means that I’m not a lost cause at all.

 

I think I always liked Thor because he was just worthy. He just was. And his dad still thought he was a fuck up anyway. I never thought that my dad thought that, but our relationship was strained for as long as I can remember. Over time, I’ve realised that it had very little to do with me. I know that. I know that. But. But, that little bit of self-loathing on the matter is still there. I never related to Thor so much as when he was in the same room as his dad. Issue 491 held a great sway over me with Odin’s appearance.

 

And, at the end of time, Thor still can’t get over his bullshit with his dad. He still can’t get over every little bit of self-loathing and shame and feeling of unworthiness. But does he give up; does he fuck!

 

I related to Jason Aaron’s Thor run like no other Thor run. This wasn’t a Thor who was worthy because he’s worthy because he’s Thor. This was a fuck up; a mess of self-doubt and self-hatred, who had to struggle for so long to think himself worthy and, then, a single phrase took it all away. Thor never stopped being worthy, he just stopped believing himself to be worthy. He gave in to those terrible thoughts that haunt us all. And he kept going. It took him a while, but he kept going. And he’d get beaten down and he’d keep going. The whole thing began with that story: King Thor in the future, nothing but a mess of self-loathing and self-pity, but, after some time and a reminder of who he is, he was a grandfather and brought Midgard back.

 

Actually, it didn’t so much remind me of Young Liars as the end of Gødland. Enlightenment isn’t a destination; it’s a process. There’s no point where you become enlightened and just stop. It doesn’t work that way. Same with being worthy. You just keep going, trying to do your best, waking up every day and hoping you can still lift that hammer. We all have our hammer. It may just be looking yourself in the mirror and not hating the person you see. Most days, I’m successful. It was nice to read about a Thor with those same struggles.

 

Jane had those struggles, too. Her struggles helped the Odinson find his way back. She was worthy, but didn’t really know what that meant. It reminds me of when I met my wife and had this other person basically telling me that I was great. I was worth loving and liking and being around. And I had no idea why. I felt a little like a fraud. Still do. I always got that sense with Jane and Mjolnir. She didn’t understand why exactly she was chosen, why she was worthy when so many weren’t. Sometimes, I think that lack of awareness is part of the why.

 

I don’t know what now. I know that there’s a new Thor comic that I’ll be reading in two weeks. Just two weeks. It all keeps moving, doesn’t it. I don’t know if I’m ready. How often do you get to read the best of something and know at the time that it was the best. Is this what it was like when Simonson left? When Kirby left?

 

It’s a weird feeling. This was something special. And it’s done. But, it’s also here on my desk. I have the entire run stacked, ready to be read any time I want. It’s complete. Ha. Pretty cool.

 

This isn’t my last word on this comic or this run. Not by a long shot. It’s just what I’ve got tonight.

Did “The God Without Fear” Actually Happen? On War of the Realms: War Scrolls #1-3

Okay, yes, it did.

But.

But.

But, what if it didn’t?

What if the events as depicted in “The God Without Fear,” which ran for three parts in War of the Realms: War Scrolls #1-3, written by Jason Aaron, drawn by Andrea Sorrentino and Matthew Wilson, and lettered by Joe Sabino, only occurred within the mind of Matt Murdock? Setting aside the fact that that is highly unlikely based on the entire history of Marvel and the work of Jason Aaron, let’s walk through this story and see if it did, in fact, occur as presented.

The idea that this story didn’t actually happen first came to me when reading the third part, in the bottom panel of page nine. Daredevil, having used shards of the Bifrost to rescue a bunch of blind children that Malekith kidnapped to draw him out, is depicted lying in a field, arms outstretched, holding the hands of a child on either side whose arms are similarly outstretched to holds the hands of the children next to them. It’s such an odd panel that seems to have little basis in reality. Daredevil rescues the children so they can lie in a field, holding hands? It struck me more as an insight into his mind and the reality that he wished to observe. He equates saving the children, blind like himself, with their being at peace together in a field. It’s not a literal depiction.

And if that panel is not real, what is?

The observer effect is a theory of quantum mechanics in physics where the act of observation alters or impacts that which is being observed. It’s a theory that suggests that things aren’t as isolated as we like to think; that observing and measuring something, usually some small element of reality, affects it because no observation is entirely passive. Daredevil, normally blind, has the ability to see and hear all in this story, having taken Heimdall’s sword to command the Bifrost, which granted him Heimdall’s abilities. So, if Daredevil can see everything everywhere, how does that impact the reality of his own actions and events he’s a part of?

I would argue that the entirety of “The God Without Fear” is Daredevil’s observation of events, altered by his own viewing of them. What we see in the comic is entirely from his perspective. There are two things that support this idea: Daredevil narrates the entire story and the unique artistic by Sorrentino and Wilson that mimics Daredevil’s senses, even when he’s not present, as it does at the end of the first part when Kurse kicks Fisk in the face and there’s an outline box on the impact, coloured differently. It’s inconsistent with the non-Daredevil art and a clue towards what’s actually happening.

The primary conflict of “The God Without Fear” is an internal one. Matt Murdock’s continuing struggles with his faith run up against a new challenge when he becomes a god, or, at least, as close to one as he’s ever encountered. That casts the entire narrative into that set framework of Murdock trying to come to grips with what this means for both himself and the world around him. The narrative is shifted to suit his attempt to use this experience to better understand an unknowable deity whose presence and existence was ingrained into him at a young age.

By observing himself using these powers, Murdock hopes to observe a god in action. If he knows what he is thinking as he acts, and he is able to observe those acts from an external perspective, perhaps new insight is to be gained. In the first part, there is a clear disconnect between Murdock’s internal narration and the actions depicted. When he fights Frost Giants, the art depicts a cacophony of images piled upon one another with various insets and specific focal points, but the narration speaks of everything else that Murdock can see and hear until “I force myself to focus on the rush of icy blood through the arteries of these giants.” Once he focuses in that way, there is no true difference between Daredevil the god and Daredevil the man beyond some additional knowledge. A large depiction of a Frost Giant with a dozen parts isolated with facts provided is not so different from what Daredevil can normally sense in an opponent with his radar senses; the knowledge of the unearthly elements at play is the only addition. He can ‘see’ the various weaknesses and strengths of his opponent like any other time. As such, in the first part of this narrative, he learns very little about what being a god is, except that it’s either an activity in observing all of reality at a remove or it’s exactly like being a person, but with some added information immediately at hand. He’s left somewhat unsatisfied, questioning himself: “[...] but I do not know... if I am truly a god. I just answered the prayers of these people. Isn’t that what a god should do? I have also brought... divine retribution.” Except, in saving some innocents from Frost Giants, did he do anything different from any other night, except perhaps on a different scale?

This pattern continues through the second part. He talks up his powers in his narration, but his actions aren’t much different than normal. He marvels at the power both he and Fisk have at their disposal as they fight, but, aside from that, it’s just another fight between Daredevil and the Kingpin. By the end of the third part, Murdock cannot help but conflate himself with a god, not based on powers, but through his experiences. The added information and perspective gained by his godly powers doesn’t actually change him in any meaningful way. He takes down some thugs in New York, gets into a fight with Wilson Fisk, and saves some kids from a scummy bad guy and his muscle-bound goon before jumping back into another fight in New York. When he goes after Malekith, he narrates, “I used to curse God because I didn’t understand how he could be omnipotent and still let bad things happen to good people. But here I am, a god... doing the very same thing.”

His rescue of the blind children is very much a “Daredevil fight,” as he uses his abilities to his advantage, taking away the moonlight to fight in pitch darkness, and outthinking his opponent. He takes a beating to buy time before he’s able to enact his true plan. He plays to his strengths, fights a boxing strategy, and is able to save the day. At this larger scale of power, it only teaches him one thing: he’s still him, even with godlike powers. And that is the insight that he gains by juxtaposing his own actions with his inner knowledge. The story ends with him looking up at a church in New York and saying, “I’m sorry. About the things I always cursed you for. I didn’t know until now. That you’re just as blind as me.”

In observing himself from an external perspective using his new powers and comparing that to what he was thinking and feeling inside, Murdock learns that the only difference is that of scale. I suppose that is an insight, of sorts, but it’s also a thought exercise that doesn’t actually resolve the conflict he begins with entirely, because it begins from the flawed assumption that additional power is the same as being a god.

The manner in which he defeats Malekith provides another insight that competes with that final moment for being the ‘point’ of the story. The shards of the Bifrost are activated and allow Daredevil and the children to escape only when one of the children touches his sword. He narrates that “what I didn’t expect... was that sometimes more important than salvation... is divine inspiration,” which leads him to conclude, while he lays on the grass with the kids, that “It’s not our gods who give us strength. It’s the other damn way around.” If conflating himself with a god and judging that the only difference is that of scale is simplistic, this is the closest to a profound lesson that he learns and relates to the end of the first part when he spoke of answering prayers. It’s not a new lesson: the god doesn’t matter, it’s the believer. The god is a mirror of the believer, one imbued with an awesome scale of power, one whose whims and directions are merely an attempt to arrange order on the chaos of reality. Of observing the world around you and trying to make sense of it all, changing the unseen things to fit into a nice, neat narrative.

Just as Murdock does for the duration of this story.

There is one glaring argument against this particular reading: Daredevil, throughout the story, cannot actually see Malekith, who uses his magic to avoid detection and observation. In the second part, Daredevil is surprised when Wilson Fisk shows himself in New York, now possessing magical powers from Malekith; in the third part, Daredevil says that he can’t see Malekith until a specific moment, which is part of the Dark Elf’s attempt to entrap the hero. Except, that fits neatly into the narrative that’s presented here; it’s self-sabotage by Daredevil that’s not really in effect. Daredevil conveniently only sees Malekith as he discusses not being able to see Malekith with Heimdall. It fits Malekith into the regular Daredevil narrative where a bad guy has kidnapped some kids and holds them hostage, causing the hero to search for them until, finally, he comes across the trap.

The neatness of the narrative progression is part of what gives this away as a fantasy – or, at least, an edited version of reality. Aside from the present events of the narrative, the first and second parts begin with flashbacks to Daredevil’s past that inform the narrative. The first is an encounter with Thor that introduces the inner conflict between his faith and the existence of the Asgardian gods. He senses tell him that Thor believes himself a god when he calls himself such, which only raises more doubt. The ensuing narrative is Murdock gaining the powers of an Asgardian and learning if that means being a god. Much like the flaw in assuming additional power is the same as being a god, there’s also a flawed assumption in that having the power of an Asgardian is the same thing as being an Asgardian. If Daredevil has the power of Heimdall, is that the same thing as being Heimdall in every aspect? Of course not, because Daredevil continues to behave like Daredevil, not like Heimdall.

The second flashback focuses on the interplay between what is observed externally and what happens internally. Daredevil has caught a serial killer and talks of praying “that once I started beating you, I’d be able to stop,” and, then, admitting that he didn’t kill the man. He muses, “So I suppose God was listening to me that night. Or maybe my arms just got tired,” indicating that even he doesn’t know what happened. He experienced the events and walked away with an ambiguous conclusion of what happened. Perhaps if he had also witnessed those events, he would have gained new insight? Probably not.

If anything “The God Without Fear” is an exercise in solipsism. By simultaneously observing his actions and experiencing them, Murdock makes himself the centre of the universe, the focal point of everything. Everything that happens is fit into a narrative that suits his inner conflict and questions. Reality is remade to revolve around him. He doesn’t recue the children and return them back home; he lies in a field, basking in the glory of being their saviour and the knowledge that he is no different from his God. Even the ‘divine inspiration’ provided by one of the children becomes about him. If anything, this entirely self-centred approach to using his powers and defining his actions provides an unstated insight into the nature of God; one where everything exists and occurs merely as a reflection of His existence. Everything is God experiencing it and observing it simultaneously, fitting it all into a grand narrative of order, just as Matt Murdock does for the entirely of this story.

But, even if this reading of the story is correct, I must admit, that doesn’t mean that the events didn’t actually happen. Aside from that one panel, everything is credible enough. That the events that happen aren’t referenced in any way in War of the Realms does seem suspect, particularly an encounter with Malekith that doesn’t fit neatly into what’s shown in that series. Unfortunately, that isn’t enough to support the argument that the story didn’t happen. Even if the act of observing what happened caused Murdock to unconsciously use his powers to somehow reshape reality into the narrative that we read, that would mean that that is what happened. So, I guess the question that really needs to be asked: how different is “The God Without Fear” from what actually happened?

Only god knows...

Riding the Gravy Train: Avengers vs. X-Men, the Modern Event Comic, and the End of the Marvel Comics Decade

A little bit later than I had hoped, but Riding the Gravy Train: Avengers vs. X-Men, the Modern Event Comic, and the End of the Marvel Comics Decade is finally available via Amazon in both paperback and eBook.

As you can imagine, it is a collection of the posts I did on the event, but with some added extras like a final reading order for the event, annotations, new pieces, and some contributions by Tegan O'Neil and Tim Callahan (first Splash Page in print!). I've been working on this for a while and am really happy with how it turned out (I think - I haven't gotten a copy yet myself since it just went up yesterday). I'm really happy that Tegan and Tim allowed me to use their work. The new pieces by me are the introduction, an entry on three more comics that act as prologue to the event (Uncanny X-Men #9-10, and Avengers #24.1), and a longer essay looking back at the event seven years later.

Here's the description:

Avengers vs. X-Men was the biggest comics event of 2012. The culmination of a decade of stories co-written by Marvel’s five top writers dubbed “The Architects,” drawn by three of Marvel’s top artists, and featuring the company’s two largest franchises, it was billed as one of the biggest events in superhero comics history. Critic Chad Nevett read every issue in the event and wrote about them weekly from the prologues prior to the event starting right through the entire fallout with all of the good and bad of trying to follow an event on a weekly basis. Collected in a print edition featuring new essays by Nevett and additional supporting material by himself and fellow critics Tegan O’Neil and Timothy Callahan, Riding the Gravy Train is a deep dive into one of the biggest superhero events of the 21st century, and its subsequent legacy.

So, if you're so inclined, please get yourself a copy in your preferred format. Again, those links:

Paperback.

eBook.

Another View: A Critical Examination of the Final Issue of Age of Ultron

I am proud to announce the first in a series of books collecting my various online writings on comics, Another View: A Critical Examination of the Final Issue of Age of Ultron. It collects the 31 posts that I did on Age of Ultron #10 in January 2014 over at Comics Should Be Good. It contains a new introduction, footnotes, and a generally cleaned up version of the text.

It is available in paperback and in eBook formats at Amazon.

(Paperback)

(eBook)

It can also be found at any regional Amazon you prefer to use.

It's a purposefully small book, both in page count and dimensions. I went for a size closest to the one used for the 33 1/3 series. Something compact for a quicker read. Partly because I wanted to begin small, partly to get a little practice at putting these together. I have plans for future volumes and am already hard at work on the next collection. It will be a larger one, but focused on a single topic/series. It will feature more new content, at least two new pieces of writing that I plan to add along with various bonus features. I'm not sure when it will be out, possibly by the end of the year, maybe very early 2019. Beyond that one, I have some ideas, but nothing specific planned out.

So, if you feel so inclined, please buy a copy in your preferred format. I hope you enjoy.

No Quarter

You'd be hard pressed to name anyone who worked on Thor between Jack Kirby and Walt Simonson, I bet.

Thor #340 shares a cover date of February 1984 with Saga of the Swamp Thing #21.

It's difficult to thoroughly discuss the first four issues of Grant Morrison's Animal Man run without going back to the first four issues of Alan Moore's Saga of the Swamp Thing run.

"Worldengine" is an aberration rather than a beginning.

"FAR BEYOND THE FIELDS WE KNOW, THE CORE OF AN ANCIENT GALAXY EXPLODES! AND A MOLTEN INGOT OF STAR-STUFF IS LEFT BEHIND BUT NOT LEFT ALONE. MARK WELL THIS FIGURE AND LISTEN. LISTEN. CAN YOU HEAR IT? THE WIND IS RISING. THE SOUND OF THUNDER REVERBERATES THROUGHOUT A BILLION BILLION WORLDS. DOOM!"

"IT'S RAINING IN WASHINGTON TONIGHT. PLUMP, WARM SUMMER RAIN THAT COVERS THE SIDEWALKS WITH LEOPARD SPOTS. DOWNTOWN, ELDERLY LADIES CARRY THEIR HOUSEPLANTS OUT TO SET THEM ON THE FIRE-ESCAPES, AS IF THEY WERE INFIRM RELATIVES OR BOY KINGS. I LIKE THAT."

"TEN MILES OUTSIDE THE CITY, THE SCREAMING BEGINS IN EARNEST... QUIET AT FIRST, LIKE A COMMOTION HEARD IN ANOTHER ROOM, IT GROWS STEADILY LOUDER WITH EACH STEP..."

"Manhattan. I've always loved it best at night. Lit up like a million riverside campfires. Where I am, it's so dark it breaks my heart. A skyscraper, abandoned by its builders. I know how it feels. The heights of Manhattan are no place to die."

You'd be hard pressed to name anyone who worked on Thor between Jack Kirby and Walt Simonson, I bet. I can name some, like Stan Lee continuing to write the title after Kirby left, or Roy Thomas or Len Wein or one of the Buscemas... But, the chasm between Kirby and Simonson is both vast and nonexistent. The former because it was 158 issues and nearly 13 years between Kirby's last Thor issue and Simonson's first; the latter, because I imagine a lot of people go from issue 179 to issue 337 with few or no stops for the comics that make up that chasm. With Thor runs, there are twin giants: Kirby and Simonson. The creator and the improver (the reviser? the revitaliser?) with everyone working in their shadows since. For Kirby, that's nothing new exactly; as the (co-)creator of so many superhero comics, everyone involved since is working in his shadow (or one of his contemporaries') to one degree or another. To establish his own shadow, Simonson looked to Kirby, but not to his Thor, as he wrote in his introduction to The Ballad of Beta Ray Bill collection: "My model for such a beginning came from the work that Jack Kirby had done for DC Comics some thirteen years earlier. When Jack began his Fourth World tetralogy for DC, he took the comic, JIMMY OLSEN, and revamped it completely. His first issue of Superman's pal was as different from the preceding issues as chalk is from cheese! The issue was riveting. It exploded with new ideas, new characters, new situations. I didn't have as many ideas as Jack; no one does. But I definitely wanted to begin my run on Thor with as dramatic break from the preceding issues as I possibly could." And then, he went on to become the second giant of Thor and cast his own shadow. Now, there's two shadows to escape.

Thor #340 shares a cover date of February 1984 with Saga of the Swamp Thing #21. That's a coincidence that I rather like for my own purposes. Speaking of shadows, Alan Moore casts the only shadow worthwhile when it comes to Swamp Thing, eclipsing those that came before him, including the creators of the character. Their work, highly regarded by many, true, is mostly put into a box called 'pre-Moore' and left for those that are curious to see what came before or are big fans of Bernie Wrightson. But, let's not kid ourselves. I'm sure there are some hardcore Neal Adams fans that obsess over him following directly on Thor after Kirby left, but those issues are mostly left for the hardcore. Same with pre-Moore Swamp Thing. But, when all things are considered, Swamp Thing is a minor character, mostly still regarded in any way because of Moore's work on the character. It's still a DC character, so it would always continue to recur, but not nearly as much as it has were it not for the run began with Saga of the Swamp Thing #21 (yes, yes, yes, Moore wrote the previous issue, too, but I'm trusting you to have more sense than that). But, the shadow that Moore casts isn't really over Swamp Thing (though he does cast a shadow there, of course). Moore casts a shadow over British comic writer (you could argue over comic writing, but...). He was the one that made the '80s 'British Invasion' happen. Without him, there's no Neil Gaiman, Grant Morrison, Peter Milligan, Jamie Delano, Warren Ellis, Garth Ennis... (all huge talents who probably would have made it in one way or another, definitely in the UK, but hard to say in the US exactly). So, there's his shadow, lingering over all of the British/UK writers to follow. Many have escaped (the names I listed being the main ones), but it still lingers to a degree (though, fading every year).

It's difficult to thoroughly discuss the first four issues of Grant Morrison's Animal Man run without going back to the first four issues of Alan Moore's Saga of the Swamp Thing run. Or, as Morrison put it in the introduction to the first Animal Man collection: "In 1987, at the height of the critical acclaim for Alan Moore's work on SWAMP THING and WATCHMEN, DC Comics dispatched a band of troubleshooters on what is quaintly termed a 'headhunting mission' to the United Kingdom. The brief was to turn up the stones and see if there weren't any more cranky Brit authors who might be able to work wonder with some of the dusty old characters languishing in DC's back catalogue." The tension, both real world and creative, between Moore and Morrison is so notable and longstanding that Elizabeth Sandifer is still in the midst of a massive multi-book series called The Last War in Albion tracing the whole thing through (and beyond) both men's careers and bodies of work. So, if Morrison is willing to introduce their major US superhero comic breakthrough book by acknowledging that it was Moore's success that made it possible, then you know that it's true. But, beyond that fact, you can't read the first four issues of Animal Man without referencing Saga of the Swamp Thing #21-24, because Morrison's work is in response to and in debt to those four issues. Out of the green and into the red.

"Worldengine" is an aberration rather than a beginning. It could have been the beginning of the third giant Thor run. It was not. It could have been the beginning of Warren Ellis's Saga of the Swamp Thing. It was not. Per Ellis, from The Captured Ghosts Interviews: "When I was offered Thor, that was probably a mistake. I think I wrote it 'cause I was so shocked at having been offered it. I wasn't very pleased with it. I wasn't au fait enough with the particular genre. Mike Deodato, I thought, did a very strong job as the artist, but I wasn't happy with the way I wrote it. It was one of those things I took not because I was trying to make a mark at Marvel, but because I thought -- I mean, it was still early days for me. I thought, 'Shit, if I don't take this, they might not offer me anything else! And they've offered me this! I should take this!' No, it was a mistake. Errors of youth." "Worldengine" came about because Ellis was too afraid to say no and he stuck around just for four issues, but those four issues follow the path already walked by Simonson, breaking from what came before as dramatically as possible; it was a defiant change in tone and style akin to Moore. But, the break was so dramatic, so specific, so startling, that it would difficult for anyone else to follow through on. It was so different that it was basically scorching the earth. It wasn't the beginning of a run. It was a hit and run. Simonson stayed; Moore stayed; Morrison stayed; Ellis left.

Walt Simonson began his run by introducing a strange alien worthy enough to carry Mjolnir.

Alan Moore began his run by revealing Swamp Thing was never human, was never Alec Holland.

Grant Morrison began their run by making the human race the antagonist for its treatment of animals.

Warren Ellis wrote a Thor story where Thor becomes mortal, loses his shirt, and fucks the Enchantress.

While some of the characters created after Kirby left Thor have stuck, none have become a standard part of Thor's title (and the Marvel Universe) like Beta Ray Bill. A horse-like alien aboard a spaceship that seems to pose a threat to Earth, Thor engages him in battle. It's an evenly matched fight and, at one point, Thor loses Mjolnir, a minute passes, he turns back to Don Blake... and the alien picks up the cane, hits it against a wall without any intent, and is transformed. He wears a costume like Thor's (though modified) and is able to carry Mjolnir. He is worthy. Odin comes to call Thor home to Asgard to assist with a massive threat and he takes Beta Ray Bill, thinking it is his son, leaving Blake alone in the storm left by the All-Father's wake, screaming "FATHER!" That's how Walt Simonson introduced Beta Ray Bill and began his Thor run. Bad guys had been able to match Thor in combat before. The stories wouldn't have been interesting (or possible) otherwise. Thor getting knocked on his ass wasn't new. Someone else picking up that cane, striking it, and being given Thor's powers, being able to lift and carry and command Mjolnir... Someone else being worthy. Now, that was new. That was different. That was making a statement.

Maybe there had been an 'everything you knew was wrong' sort of reboot before (I guess Moore's own Marvelman a year and a half or so prior would count), but this was probably the most high profile one. Swamp Thing has been shot dead. Jason Woodrue, the Floronic Man, is hired to do the autopsy and figure out how Alec Holland was transformed into Swamp Thing. He discovers a plant composed of human-like organs that serve no purpose other than to look like human organs. He figures it out: Swamp Thing is not a mutated human. It's a plant. Alec Holland was never transformed, a plant was. And you can't kill a plant with a gun. So, Woodrue revives Swamp Thing, leaves out his report, and arranges it so his employee is killed by a very confused, very angry plant who has just learned that it's not a man after all. Swamp Thing was never Alec Holland, it just thought it was. Everything you -- and the star of the comic -- knew was wrong. That was new. That was different. That was making a statement.

In contrast, Grant Morrison did 'everything you knew was wrong' in a completely different way. You thought Animal Man was a superhero when really he's not. He has superpowers and a costume that he doesn't really wear, but he's not a proper superhero. He's a suburban layabout husband who thinks he'll give being a hero another go. And how does he go about it? By going on a late night talk show. So, he's the guy that STAR Labs calls when Superman is too busy and everyone thinks that he can turn into animals. You've seen superheroes with families and superheroes who aren't necessarily the best, but a name superhero who's one step above being a wannabe? Animal Man was never really a superhero, you just thought he was. That was new. That was different. That was making a statement.

Warren Ellis didn't introduce a new character to challenge our preconceptions about Thor. He didn't reveal a dark secret from Thor's past that changed everything (thank christ). He didn't use a reality-altering megaevent to rearrange the details of his life and present a different sort of hero. He just turned him mortal, had his dad be an asshole, and had him fight some cyborg zombie vikings. It's a variation on the approach that Morrison did for Animal Man, but altered from him as much as he altered it from Moore. A radical change in circumstances, albeit a new one that left everything before completely intact. Ellis's approach was rooted in the basic origin of Thor, similar to how Simonson went back to the origin as well. Where Simonson honed in on the inscription on Mjolnir, Ellis picked the idea of Thor being made mortal, banished to Earth by his father to be given a lesson in humility. No separate identity this time; no (supposedly) loving lesson from Odin. Just sickness and death, because someone is fucking with the World-Ash. Thor speaks and thinks like we do, he's withering away, he's dirty and greasy and dying, he fights through a host of zombies, he see what's being done to the thing that controls everything, and he's smacked on the head. He's probably dead. That was new. That was different. That was making a statement.

The key to Beta Ray Bill wasn't the initial shock that he could hold Mjolnir. If that was all there was to the character, he never would have lasted. That's a great moment of shock to kick off a run, get attention, and dare readers to not come back next month. That's a route for a quick one-and-done character, not someone who has become like a brother to Thor, a trusted ally of Asgard and some of Marvel's cosmic heroes. No, the key to Beta Ray Bill is the backstory. The member of an alien race who gave up his life to be altered into the perfect warrior and protector as his people fled their destroyed world, pursued by an unending supply of space demons. His only thoughts are of his people, but, when faced with Thor and Odin, he finds his own sense of honour -- his worthiness -- prevents him from taking Mjolnir, a weapon that could help him better save his people. He's so noble that he gave up everything for his people -- and is then so noble that he can't rob a man of his birthright to continue protecting them. He's been alone in the universe and, now, he's faced with a race of people who may not be his people, but are a match for who he's become. A warrior race of honour and nobility... One that sees his internal struggle and manages to give him both the weapon he needs and maintain his honour by not taking it from Thor. Beta Ray Bill is so worthy that Odin makes him his very own Mjolnir, a Stormbreaker. He's not just the first being we've seen lift Mjolnir aside from Thor and Odin, he's the first being we've seen welcomed into the inner circle of Odin's family like that. He's basically introduced, fights Thor twice, and is adopted as a member of the house of Odin. He's a shock, he's a tragic backstory, and he's a match for Thor...

At the end of "The Anatomy Lesson," (and, as a quick aside, you know how influential a single comic is when everyone knows its title like that... there aren't a lot of single issues in the history of American superhero comics where everyone knows its title; they're more likely to know the issue number than the story title) we've been given a piece of information that we didn't know: Swamp Thing was never Alec Holland, it just thought it was. However, that revelation wasn't the sort where everything falls into place and we all go "Of course! How was I so blind?" It just raises more questions. If Swamp Thing is a plant who thought he was human, was it a conscious being before the accident? Is it a mutated plant? Now that it's killed the old man, what will it do? Woodrue thinks it's going back to Louisiana. The next three issues don't necessarily answer these questions beyond what happens next. But, that works to Moore's advantage. Swamp Thing is supplanted by Woodrue who taps into the Green, amplifies his powers, and begins to slaughter people, threatening to kill all of the humans for what they've done to the vegetation of the world. All the while, Swamp Thing is rooted, deep in a barely conscious state as he slowly processes what he now knows. Woodrue's disruption is what shocks him awake and he confronts Woodrue, reminding him that plants need people to produce the carbon dioxide that they need. He confronts the man who wants to be a plant no longer the plant who thinks he's a man... We don't know yet exactly what Swamp Thing is, just that he is Swamp Thing and he is home and he is happy...

Morrison also gives Animal Man a double, a pre-existing character, B'wanna Beast. It's a similar idea to what Moore did with the vegetation, except it's people's treatment of animals at the core here. The experimentation on animals, the way that the scientist at STAR Labs lies to Animal Man about what they've been doing (no cure for AIDS here, just biological weapons), and the eventual confrontation between Animal Man and his twisted double, the Beast that ends with Animal Man healing him and punching out the scientist. A story that began with us seeing that Buddy Baker is not a superhero really ends with him doing a bunch of things that superheroes don't usually do: healing his enemy, hitting civilians, and generally switching sides to a degree. Swamp Thing protects the plants; Animal Man will protect animals. Like Swamp Thing, Animal Man protects by getting the 'bad guy' to back down. Except all the bad guy here wanted to do was rescue his primate friend from those that captured, experimented on tortured her, and was in the process of killing her in order to learn how to kill more. Animal Man learns that his perspective was wrong and that maybe he needs to learn a lot more. We don't know what he'll do next, just that he's home with his family and he doesn't seem exactly sure what he's going to do next...

What makes "Worldengine" so hard to follow for someone who isn't Ellis is exactly what would have made any of these other three hard to follow by anyone who wasn't the writer of those first four issues. He upends everything. (One of the notable changes, though, is that the last time we see Beta Ray Bill in the story, he's in a coma, possibly already dead.) Thor spends the second act of the story with the Enchantress, surrendering himself to her advances, and deciding that he needs to find out what is going on with the World-Ash, what's trying to kill him, and what he can do to help. They find a new character, a mad scientist so obsessed with the end of the world and what would come next that he has taken the World-Ash and used technology to advance it through Ragnarok in order to cause it to produce the new humans for that post-apocalyptic world. Except, the world hasn't died by fire and those new humans were designed for a much different environment and they all die. Thor forcibly repairs the damage to the World-Ash and he returns back with the Enchantress, seemingly his old self (at least with his powers). He decides that he'll remain on Earth, that he only managed to save everything today, because he thought things through. Where exactly he is at the end of "Worldengine" is ambiguous. He's with the Enchantress, he's still Thor, but he's quasi-mortal, he's Earthbound, and... "Worldengine" ends in a manner that is both a decided new break from what came before, but also ambiguous on where to go next with numerous unanswered questions.

When you read "The Ballad of Beta Ray Bill," it's not just the plot that stands out, it's the strong stylistic change. It's Simonson's bulky Thor, John Workman's lettering (the extra space in word balloons!), the way that Simonson gives little asides to other Asgardians, and the Surtur teases. These Thor comics don't read like previous Thor comics. They're nonstop, there's a mixing of new with hints of Norse legend... it feels like Simonson is pulling the book in two directions to an extent. And that dual pulling would be a trademark of his run; he teases Surtur, Loki, the Enchantress's sister, Balder in Hel... he gives us Beta Ray Bill, ends Donald Blake, has Thor working (briefly) for SHIELD... Odin takes Thor and Bill up to Hlidskialf to talk over their problem! He mixes it all together in a way you've never seen before. Even now, there's something alien and shocking about these pages -- they don't look like what I know Thor comics to look like, because they're so rooted in Simonson's specific style.

Alan Moore's prose in "The Anatomy Lesson" is what stands out and is what really fucked over those that followed him, eh? Purple prose -- but with the purpose of slowly unveiling his big reveal. Purpose prose to create a certain ambiance, a certain tone. It wasn't just that Swamp Thing was a superhero book, Moore was positioning it as a horror book, and that required a bit of a heavier mood to hover in those pages. His prose sucks you in more, makes you get a little bit more invested in what you're reading, because it takes a little longer, is a little more descriptive... Later, when the Justice League shows up, they're treated like something a little alien, a little... off. Like they don't fit. And they don't save the day at all, because superheroes aren't exactly effective in horror stories. The 'everything you thought you knew was wrong' approach wasn't just about Swamp Thing's character -- it was about the genre of the comic. Sure, it had horror roots (Bernie Wrightston co-created it!), but it was still a powerful hero figure from DC Comics... Swamp Thing was a superhero of the monster subsection. After "The Anatomy Lesson" and the three issues that followed it, it was clear that it was a horror comic and had always been a horror comic.

The tone is Animal Man's first four issues is... a little muddled, I find. But, that's good. It suits the book. It has a message and it's strong in presenting that message about humans being garbage about how they treat other humans and animals. It's a bit over the top and lacking nuance, but... it's a superhero comic. It's got a lot of Moore's purple prose for the Beast's parts, but he represents the horror side of the book. He makes horrible blends of animals/humans, and is waging a war not unlike Woodrue, except one that's a little more justified because it's a specific instance of some humans doing wrong -- not a broad "humans kill plants, so I kill all humans" sort of take. It's meant to be the inverse of Woodrue and Swamp Thing  where Swamp Thing stops Woodrue by pointing out that he's wrong; here, Animal Man learns that he's wrong. The tone and style of the book isn't exactly clear yet, because Animal Man himself isn't clear yet. He doesn't know who he is and what kind of superhero he's going to be yet. By the end, there's a sense of the message of the book and points to its eventual direction...

It's hard to miss the stylistic influences upon Ellis in "Worldengine." There's the Mooresean captions. There's the calling back to Norse myths (Odin arrives on Hlidskialf when he appears to Thor in the sky, very similarly to the way he appears at the end of issue 337) while pushing the new like Simonson did. Ellis's contribution as far as new characters go is Curzon, a British cop in New York. He's how we get a lot of the Norse myth stuff as he investigates a bunch of weird shit surrounding the World-Ash. He's a shouty British man who hates American coffee, likes to smoke, and is forced to do lots of reading about Thor for his job. While Ellis would deny that he's a stand-in for himself, all he really does is show up, be shouty Brit, smoke, read about Thor, and get disappeared at the end of the story, much like Ellis. With Mike Deodato and Marie Javins's art and Jonathan Babcock's letters, much like Simonson's issues, this doesn't look like any Thor before or after. Odin is bathed in Norse myth visual, his dialogue a quais-Rune script... Thor's narrative captions are casual, the opposite of Moore's purple prose, but that's only because Thor is known for that faux-Shakespearan speech pattern. So, Ellis uses the technique, but changes the actual style. Because Ellis doesn't stick around, his stylistic flourishes don't either. He wasn't there long enough to really make a mark. He seems poised to turn Thor into a urban superhero of sorts, shifting from one superhero subgenre to another, but...

Simonson teases the end of the world both with the demons and the slow build coming of Surtur (DOOM!).

Moore teases the end of the world both with Woodrue killing everyone and humanity ending it due to their killing too many plants.

Morrison teases the end of the world both with the biological weapon escaping from STAR Labs and humanity ending it due to killing too many animals.

Ellis shows what it will be like after the world has ended, because a human uses technology to trick the World-Ash into thinking it happened.

"THOR, HUMILITY IS A LESSON EVEN GODS CAN LEARN. SUCH WAS THE MEANING OF MJOLNIR'S SPELL WROUGHT LONG AGO. THOUGH THY HAMMER STILL RETAINS SOME LITTLE ENCHANTMENT, YOU WILL CARRY THE MEMORY OF YOUR COMBAT WITH BILL FOREVER. WE MAY ALL PROFIT FROM THAT, NO? AS FOR ANOTHER FIGHT WITH BILL... NOT EVEN THE ALL-WISE KNOWS EVERYTHING, MY SON."

"ALMOST DAWN... A BIRD SPEAKS... BARELY AWAKE... ANOTHER ANSWERS... SOON... ALL THE BIRDS... ARE TALKING, TELLING... EACH OTHER... THEIR DREAMS... WHY? WHY DID... I EVER... LEAVE THIS PLACE? I WANT... TO WALK HERE... FOREVER. I WANT... TO STRUGGLE... WITH THE ALLIGATORS... TURNING OVER... AND OVER... IN THE MUD... I WANT TO... BE ALIVE... AND GROW... AND RISE UP..."

"SOMEWHERE, THE MONKEYS ARE SCREAMING. AND SCREAMING. AND SCREAMING."

"I required a safe haven from which to decide my future -- our future. I have gotten close to death for the very first time, and it has chilled me. It has forced me to think, to reason through crises rather than hitting them. Inside, a woman I am perhaps coming to love waits for me: something I have never truly known. Above, my Family has rejected me in an ultimate way. The rain grows stronger. Dark stormfronts swirl above. There is a shout amid the thunder."

I have done a poor job of pulling these four works together the way that I wanted. But, I believe you can see what I was going for. Maybe Ellis was right and he wasn't a good fit for Thor. I still think that's wrong, but I don't know how much struggle or discomfort he had when writing "Worldengine." He wears his influences in an obvious fashion, standing firmly in the shadows of Simonson and Moore, never escaping either in these four issues. (That all four of these runs began as four-issue stories is fun, isn't it? Four issues is the easiest way to to hit that three-act structure with the second act twice as long as the first and third...) Instead, it wouldn't be for another three, four years that Ellis would stumble upon a four-issue story that would begin a run that would help him create his own shadow for others to toil in after him.

"They think there's no one left to save the world."

The First Thorsday: On The Unworthy Thor #1

Jason Aaron began his run on the Thor titles in November of 2012. Four years ago. It began with Thor: God of Thunder with Esad Ribic drawing the book and Dean White colouring it. Now, four years later, Aaron delivers his 50th Thor comic, The Unworthy Thor #1 and he has the artist that put his stamp on the two previous big Thor runs with him, Olivier Coipel. I've been looking forward to this comic ever since it was announced as, unsurprisingly, an underlying mystery that has obsessed me is the words that made the Odinson unworthy back in Original Sin. I imagine that this mini-series will finally answer that question. I haven't even speculated in private as to what was said to change the Odinson from worthy to not, because I'm sure that I can't come up with it myself. And part of me is certain that the revelation will be somewhat lame. After all, what can possibly be whispered to a god and have such a profound effect? We'll see, I suppose.

But, back to the business at hand...

I must admit that, beyond the mystery of how he became unworthy, my other big reason for anticipating The Unworthy Thor was that it continues the story of Thor Odinson. Given the amount of backlack that the Jane Foster Thor has gotten from some sections of Thor fandom, it feels wrong to say that in some ways. But, you know, as much as I'm enjoying The Mighty Thor currently (and I am, quite a bit), it's not the same character, a character that I'd have to say is my favourite mainstream superhero comic character. Part of the reason why I've wanted to write about Thor is to see if I can figure out why I love this character so much. After all, it's a character that seems the opposite of me: not necessarily bright, very violent, a bit of drunken oaf... He's not a character that I see myself in, like Peter Parker or even wish, on some level, I were, like Spider Jerusalem. While there is a part of me that would love to hit things with a big fucking hammer, I can't say that Thor is character that I would like to be, beyond using his action figure to play superheroes with my son. So, the unstated question that will run through this newsletter is

WHY DO I LIKE THOR SO MUCH?

Let no more be said of that question...

A return to the Odinson has been something I've been waiting for. In part to answer the mystery, in part because he's my Thor. I dig the other Thor (I dig all Thors, really), but it's not the character that I've been reading about for most of my life. Is that sad? It might be, but fuck it. I have enough love in my heart for many Thors and I'm not ashamed to say such an obviously shameful thing.

The last time we saw the unworthy Odinson, he was trapped in some energy/mechanical thing and, nearby, on the ground, was Ultimate Mjolnir. Here's the continuation as we begin with the Odison fighting through mobs in a daily attempt to get that hammer -- and every day he fails. Then, we get the beginning of how he got the idea to get Ultimate Mjolnir in the aftermath of Secret Wars. Aaron has the Odinson narrate the story and Coipel, along with colourist Matthew Wilson, delivers some gorgeous work. It's a good comic. At least, for me, it's a good comic.

I recently reread all of the Thor comics (including Journey into Mystery) from J. Michael Straczynski (I didn't have to look up the spelling) until the beginning of Jason Aaron's run -- so, the JMS run, the Gillen run, and the Fraction run with a bunch of Loki stuff thrown in. Olivier Coipel drew most of the JMS run, with some help from Marko Djurdjevic (I didn't need to look up how to spell that, either) and, then, later did the first six issues of relaunched Mighty Thor under Fraction (that was the story where Odin fought Galactus, the Silver Surfer moved to Broxton, and a local pastor became the new Herald of Galactus, a fact that was probably never followed up on by anyone). He also drew Siege, which was the second-closest event that we've gotten to a Thor-centric event (after Fear Itself). He's clearly got a fondness for the character and the news that he would draw this series was less a surprise than a friendly bit of news. A moment where a familiar face pops in for a visit. His work here with Wilson is quite good. More lush and detailed than the last time I saw his art; a bit sketchier in spots, a bit rougher... yet more refined. I've been a fan of his for a decade and this is the best work I've seen from him. I'm still not sophisticated enough to fully articulate the ways that I think I see Wilson making Coipel's line work better, but, rest assured, he does. Wilson and the fact that Coipel is inking himself are two things that assist in this 'level up' moment...

The version of Thor Odinson we get here is a bit pathetic. He's less than he once ways and knows it. He's full of self-loathing... and pride. That undercurrent of pride is important, because it shows that no matter how unworthy he may be, there's part of him that can't escape who he's been his entire life. He's still the Odinson. He's just fallen and desperate and sad. That opening scene where he's fighting off hoards of aliens and creatures to reach Ultimate Mjolnir -- does he drive himself on because he's THOR SON OF ODIN GOD OF THUNDER or because he's desperate to be that person again? It's the same character, obviously, but is he the same man/god that we've been reading about for so long? That looks to be the point of the series (which Aaron confirms in his text piece at the end of the issue) and it's an intriguing one. In the small amount of Thor comics I've been (re)reading lately (the Simonson run, the aforementioned JMS/Gillen/Fraction runs, and a few issues into the second Essential Thor volume after reading the first one) (okay, that's not a small number of comics, but, in the overall number of Thor comics, it's not large), the idea that the Asgardians are malleable beyond other superhero characters has cropped up. They are explicitly beings of stories and, thus, are more easily shaped and reshaped according to the needs of the narrative. There have been numerous contradictions and changes and retcons and they all work, because the characters shrug and say "It was so long ago, who can remember for sure?" and just get on with it. The most recent issue of The Mighty Thor gave a new origin for Mjolnir and it's great. If someone retcons that in a few years, it won't matter, because the story was good. Thor and the Asgardians yield entirely to the story and that's cool.