The Mortal Thor #1: A Norwegian in New York

This week marks the start of The Mortal Thor, the second series of writer Al Ewing’s envisioned three-part Thor epic. Its title is a play on the previous series’ title Immortal Thor (much like Kieron Gillen’s Immortal X-Men series becoming Immoral X-Men for a spell), but it’s also a succinct description of the series’ premise: Thor is just some guy now.

For long-term Thor readers, Pasqual Ferry’s art and Matt Hollingsworth’s colors will be familiar from their older Thor work with Matt Fraction in 2010. Mortal Thor’s set-up is a cheeky reversal of Fraction, Ferry, and Hollingsworth’s, in which the gods were reborn and Thor found his sibling Loki living in Paris as an amnesiac street urchin named Serrure (French for “Lock”). In The Mortal Thor, Thor has been reborn in New York as amnesiac Norwegian immigrant and construction worker Sigurd Jarlson (Thor’s secret identity in Walt Simonson’s 1983 Thor run). Loki is once again a street urchin, but this time they’re the one fully aware—and they’ve got no intention of letting Sigurd know who he once was. 

Thor #617 (2010) (Fraction, Ferry, Hollingsworth, and Workman)

The Mortal Thor’s premise feels quasi-Biblical in nature: a god—here, Norse—is reborn on Earth in mortal form, to suffer and die like all the rest of us. And, of course, the idea of a superpowerless superhero is nothing new (here’s looking at you, Iron Man and Batman!). But unlike the better part of them, Sigurd isn’t toting around enough weapons to outfit a militia and isn’t blessed with the real-life superpower of unfathomable wealth. Writer Al Ewing envisions the Mortal Thor as an Everyman, a working-class immigrant fighting white supremacist bikers and sleazy corporate scumbags. It’s about as far away from being the king of an alien pantheon as it’s possible to get. The visual landscape of the comic feels uncanny without Asgard’s standard uncial typeface. And instead of Thor’s thees and nays, Sigurd mutters to himself in Norwegian and speaks stilted English to everyone else. From the comic’s early scenes, like Sigurd getting shocked by his apartment’s shoddy wiring, there is a playfulness to Ewing’s script and a thrilling knowledge that Sigurd can be oh, so much more than shocked. 

Pasqual Ferry’s linework is relaxed and fluid, though fight scenes have a visceral power. Sometimes, this elegant linework unfortunately feels lost beneath a variety of digital crosshatching brushes. At other times, low-resolution 3D models stand out in the backgrounds like sore, pixelated thumbs. As to Hollingsworth’s coloring, I remain admittedly not the biggest fan of this older school of digital comics coloring, where the liberal use of soft brushes makes surfaces as diverse as skin, leather jackets, and sidewalks equally textureless. Hollingsworth’s colors themselves nonetheless effectively communicate differences in setting between, for example, Thor’s shabby studio apartment and a dangerous alley at dusk. Ultimately, Mortal Thor’s artwork feels a bit like going home after a long absence or catching up with an old friend and falling into familiar rhythms.