Welcome to the second installment in our series of four posts commemorating May, 1976 as “Marvel Milestone Month“. Last time, we looked at Captain America’s “Special Bicentennial Issue”, aka Captain America #200; this go-round, it’s “The Spectacular 250th Issue!” of the four-color home of everyone’s favorite Norse God of Thunder. (Technically, it’s only the 125th issue of this publication released under the title Thor; for its first 125 issues, the book was officially known as Journey into Mystery, and what’s more, the Son of Odin didn’t even show up until #83. But I bet you already knew all that, didn’t you?)
Of course, given that this is a Marvel superhero comic published in 1976, the odds of it being a done-in-one story are exceedingly remote; and, in fact, Thor #250 is the conclusion of a trilogy that had begun two months earlier. But even that’s not quite the whole story, as the narrative that had taken center stage with #248 had been bubbling under the surface as a subplot for some six or so issues prior to that. Thus, to get up to speed for #250, we’ll need to spend a little time checking out the relevant scenes from #242-247, as well as hitting the high points of #248 and #249… so, best grab yourself a beverage, and prepare to settle in for a while.
As regular readers may recall from the last time we discussed Thor in this space, #242 featured the debut of Len Wein as the title’s new writer. Wein’s tenure followed a very brief three-issue stint by Roy Thomas and Bill Mantlo, which in its turn was preceded by a much longer residency by Gerry Conway (who, for anyone who hasn’t heard, sadly passed away just a few weeks ago at this time of writing, on April 26, 2026). Towards the end of his nearly four-year run, Conway had introduced a couple of important new plotlines that it would be up to his successors, especially Wein, to deal with in one way or another.
Panel from Thor #238 (Aug., 1975). Text by Gerry Conway; art by John Buscema and Joe Sinnott.
The first of these involved a mystery concerning the whereabouts of Thor’s dad, Odin, whom readers learned in issue #230 had vanished from Asgard completely, leaving his subjects with no idea where he’d gone, when he’d be back, or how to reach him in an emergency. In issue #233, we found out that he’d gone to Midgard (Earth) to learn humility by living amongst mortals; more specifically, he was in California, going by the name “Orrin” and getting involved in a grape-pickers’ strike. Oh, and he’d given himself amnesia; so not only could no one find him if they needed him, but he had no way of summoning help himself. Um, remind me again why this guy’s called “the All-Wise”?
Panel from Thor #236 (Jun., 1975). Text by Gerry Conway; art by John Buscema and Joe Sinnott.
The second of Conway’s major new plot developments centered on the return in issue #231 of Jane Foster — Thor’s old mortal girlfriend whom we’d all assumed he’d moved on from, but who actually still held the key to his heart — — despite his years-long romantic relationship with the Lady Sif.. Thor discovered this at the very same time we readers did, when he found Jane dying after having been ensorcelled by a shadow-demon Fortunately, in #236 Jane was miraculously healed — but only at a great cost, as Sif selflessly sacrificed her own life-essence to restore her beloved’s beloved to his waiting arms.
Taking up these plot threads following Gerry Conway’s departure, Roy Thomas (in issues #239 and #240) and Bill Mantlo (in #240 and #241) had the amnesiac Odin abducted by the Egyptian gods Osiris, Isis, and Horus, who wanted to use him to channel the power of their own pantheon’s father-god figure, Atum-Re. Racing to rescue his sire, Thor was joined by Jane Foster, who’d begun to demonstrate a much greater taste for adventure than she ever had in her 1960s appearances. This trilogy of issues ended with Thor, Jane, and Odin all back on Earth… though it wouldn’t be until the following issue, #242 — which, you’ll remember, was the first by new regular scripter Len Wein — to complete the All-Father’s restoration through the return of his memory (art here and in succeeding excerpts by John Buscema and Joe Sinnott)…
Hmm… if Odin’s whole point in putting everyone through all this drama had been to learn “humility”, then, just going by his brief interaction here with Thor and Jane, the project seems to have been a bust. Just sayin’.
Anyway, right after turning his back on his son, Odin bid goodbye to Judith, a young mortal woman he’d befriended…
Meanwhile, Thor and Jane took the Mjolnir express back to New York City, where they found the Thunder God’s buds the Warriors Three waiting for them. All five almost immediately fell into a new adventure involving Thor’s old enemy Zarrko, the Tomorrow Man, who’d traveled from the 50th century seeking our hero’s help against an even greater threat, the Time-Twisters.
In the opening pages of issue #243, Thor agreed to help Zarrko; but then, as he and his three comrades-in-arms prepared to board the Tomorrow Man’s Time-Cube…
As the Time-Cube faded from view on 20th-century Earth, the scene shifted to Asgard, where events were being monitored both by Odin and by his most-trusted advisor, the Grand Vizier. When the latter opined that the All-Father should be proud of his son’s bravery, Odin coldly shut him down: “I have no son, Vizier — and thou wouldst do well to remember that!”
OK, so all of us longtime Thor readers were accustomed to Odin’s arrogant bullheadeness. Still, with that last panel, our storytellers seemed to be giving us a strong hint that what was going on here was at least a little more than that.
Our next check-in with events in Asgard came in the next issue, #244…
Igron and Loki are up to no good in this panel from Thor #179 (Aug., 1970) — which, incidentally, was the last issue illustrated by Jack Kirby. Text by Stan Lee; art by Kirby and Vince Colletta.
Igron “the Invincible” (as he styles himself in this issue) stands revealed in this panel from Thor #217 (Nov., 1973) — just in time to get his ass handed to him a mere two pages later. Text by Gerry Conway; art by John and Sal Buscema.
The ignoble Igron has the distinction of being one of the very last named characters co-created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby for Thor. First appearing in issue #177, Loki’s magical minion was betrayed by his boss two issues later, consigned to serve the Rock Trolls of Asgard as their slave. He’d resurfaced just once since then, in issue #217, where we learned he’d managed to escape from the Trolls, after which he’d created a set of magical duplicates of Odin, Thor, and company that were convincing enough to fool the rank-and-file warriors and other folk of the Golden Realm in the absence of the real thing — thus allowing Igron to rule incognito. But, when the Asgardian elite returned from their recent adventures in space, all was soon set to rights, and the defeated Igron hadn’t been seen since… though that was obviously about to change.
Returning to our 1975-76 continuity, we’ll dip into the ongoing “A”-plot just long enough to share this bit of foreshadowing from later in issue #244. It came during a pitched battle fought betwixt Team Thor and a horde of warriors plucked from across the timestream — a battle in which Jane Foster grabbed a sword and started swinging it like someone who actually knew what they were doing…
From here, the “Time-Twisters” storyline continued to its conclusion in #245 — an issue that found no room for subplots. So our next glimpse of the goings-on in Asgard wouldn’t be until #246 — and when we did finally get a look at what had been happening since Odin’s decision to spring Igron, it didn’t look good…
Later in the same issue, we caught up with the bummed-out Balder in a meadhall, as he shared his concerns with the warrior woman Hildegarde…
This is the last we saw of Asgard in Thor #246; in #247, however, we found that Snaykar (what were this guy’s parents thinking when they gave him that name?) had done his work all too well…
At first, Balder battled valiantly against the warriors Odin had set against him. But, being badly outnumbered, he reasoned that if he was slain, there wouldn’t be anyone who could inform Thor about all the bad stuff going on. (Actually, it seems to me that Hildegarde would have been able to step in, but never mind.) So, he leapt out of a window and escaped into the night, intent on journeying to Midgard to warn Thor and the Warriors Three before it was too late.
Speaking of the God of Thunder, he and his lady Jane had spent these two issues sharing an adventure with the former herald of Galactus, Firelord, in the fictional Latin American nation of Costa Verde. But as we arrive in March, 1976 and pick up our copy of Thor #248, we find as we turn past the cover (which was produced by Rich Buckler and Joe Sinnott [and maybe Frank Giacoia]) that the couple have put all that behind them. Yep — it’s finally time for the “Mad Odin” trilogy to properly begin…
Along with the Odin/Igron subplot moving up to the foreground, “There Shall Come… Revolution!” brings something of a sea change to the artistic identity of the Thor series. While Joe Sinnott had never been a long-term, consistent presence on Thor in the way he was (and would continue to be) on Fantastic Four, he had nevertheless inked a lot of issues, especially within the last couple of years. Speaking more generally, his pristine finishes over John Buscema’s pencilled breakdowns epitomized the Marvel “house style” of the 1970s as well if not better than any other penciller/inker combo; it was a comfortably familiar, as well as a reliably attractive, look.
Sinnott’s replacement on Thor, Tony DeZuñiga, was something else again. While his work as both a penciller and inker had been on view in American comics since 1970 (and in the comics of his native Philippines for more than a decade before that), most of it had been in the horror, Western, and sword-and-sorcery genres, rather than for the ever-more-dominant field of superhero comics. Of course, to a certain extent Thor dealt in the same heroic fantasy tropes as Conan the Barbarian, so seeing DeZuñiga’s somewhat messier, more rough-hewn finishes appear here was less jarring than it might have been in, say, Amazing Spider-Man. Still, this was a major stylistic shift — and one that we Thor fans were going to need to get used to, as DeZuñiga would be hanging around for a while… two years, to be more precise, during which time his work would be featured in all but a couple of issues.
But now, to get on with our story: The unexpected thunderstorm that Thor and Jane Foster have found themselves flying into proves to be an unusually dangerous one. After saving a window-washer from plunging to his death, Thor calls on his godlike powers to bring the tempest to an end… and finds unexpected resistance. While he’s ultimately successful in clearing the skies over Manhattan, he subsequently worries that Odin may have taken out his anger over his son’s defiance by stripping him of his divine prerogatives.
For now, however, Thor’s forced to turn his attention to another minor crisis; you see, while he and Jane have been out of town, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg have been left to their own devices, and they’ve inadvertently caused a major traffic tie-up in Midtown. Thor proceeds to get that straightened out without too much fuss, after which he and his three comrades return to their home base of Jane’s apartment — only to find that their accommodations there have unexpectedly become even more crowded:
While Heimdall may seem a bit overmatched here, that’s not the situation for long. The guardian of Bifrost blows a note on his horn, summoning the members of Odin’s elite guard to a brouhaha that runs a couple of pages, and ends only after all of Thor and company’s opponents lie fallen — the last, Heimdall, having ultimately been kayoed by a blow reluctantly delivered from behind by the voluminous Volstagg.
Their way now clear before them, Thor and his companions advance cautiously into the city…
If you’re wondering, no, we’ve never seen these four guys before — and we never will again after this issue, which makes one wonder why Wein and Buscema went to the trouble to specifically spotlight and name them. For what it’s worth, the setup is somewhat reminiscent of a scene from Thor #195 in which Gerry Conway and (again) John Buscema had debuted four Asgardian “elders” who, like Brodag and company, got very little play following their introduction.
Once the battle is joined, Thor quickly makes the assessment that the two sides will be more or less equally matched even in his absence — and so, he hurries on alone towards the top of the Tower of Solitude. And that’s a good thing, because we’ve reached this episode’s next-to-last page, and our storytellers need to squeeze in the book’s cover scene while they still can…
Speaking of Thor #248’s cover scene, Rich Buckler was clearly working under the influence of Jack Kirby when he pencilled it, and that’s fine. Nevertheless, Thor #249 goes it one better with a piece pencilled by the King himself; as with #248, Joe Sinnott has provided the inks. Yeah, it’s like old times.
Within the comic’s pages, “The Throne and the Fury!” begins with Thor boldly strolling alone through the streets of Asgard, intent on entering the royal palace and having it out with his dad face to face…
Having concluded the audience, Odin proceeds to sic his Palace Guard on Thor. After a couple of pages of mayhem, the Thunder God realizes this violence is pointless, and so flies away back to the hideout of his friends and fellow conspirators…
In his 2015 introduction to Marvel Masterworks — The Mighty Thor, Vol, 15, the late Len Wein described the circumstances that led to him deciding to bring back the Lady Sif. According to the author, it all started with the book’s fan mail:
Most of the letters were very positive, as was generally the case, but an ever-increasing number of them started commenting on Thor’s relationship with Jane. “Jane is boring,” they said in essence, “Jane is stupid and boring and she really should be replaced by Thor’s true love, the Goddess Sif.” An interesting concept, but not what I had planned, so I let it slide.
Months passed. The mail kept coming. More and more, the message was, “We hate Jane Foster. She’s dull and lame and she probably has cooties. Get rid of her. Bring back Lady Sif.”
Now, you have to understand, this was fairly early in my career, and I wasn’t quite as confident in my writing skills as I am now. So, “Maybe they’re right,” I started thinking, “Maybe I should start giving my audience what they want.” I thought about it for a month or so, and finally came to a solution… and quickly employed it in the next available issue. “There,” I thought, “That should make them happy.”
A few months passed. The issue came out as scheduled, and I happily awaited the readers’ response. To my astonishment, much of the mail read, “Sif is boring,” they said in unison, “Sif is stupid and boring and she really should be replaced by Thor’s true love, nurse Jane Foster.” This would not necessarily have bothered me much, until I realized… these new letters had come from exactly the same readership who had been complaining about Jane Foster.
After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I thought about it for a while and finally came to the inevitable conclusion: my audience had absolutely no idea what it really wanted and it was my job to give them what I thought they needed. As a result, I’ve never really listened to the urging of my audience ever since. I started in this industry as a fan, still think like a fan, and so, on the assumption that I basically share the same tastes as my audience, I write what will make me happy and hope they’ll feel the same. So far I’ve generally been extraordinarily lucky in that respect.
It’s an amusing story, and I have no reason to doubt Wein’s word that some ’75-’76 letterhacks changed their tune regarding the “Jane or Sif?” question over a matter of months. Speaking just for myself, however, I was never on Team Jane. Not that I had anything against her, really (I never thought she had cooties, I swear) — but my first issue of Thor had been #158, which came out almost two years after she’d gotten the old heave-ho in #136. Prior to Thor #231, I’d known Jane Foster only from reprints and back issues; as far as my real-time reading was concerned, Thor and Sif had always been a couple. So I was delighted to see Wein bring the Lady Sif back on stage, and never questioned the wisdom of that creative decision afterwards.
Naturally, that didn’t mean I had no interest in the tantalizing notion suggested by the dialogue in that last tier of panels — i.e., the possibility that when our characters returned to Earth, Jane Foster’s persona might return to the fore. Would Jane and Sif both be regular supporting characters going forward, with any given story’s setting dictating who we’d see? Or would the two women be able to change back and forth at will, perhaps by striking Sif’s sword against something, much as Jane had already demonstrated? That could be considered a logical extension of the classic Donald Blake/Thor dynamic (though, given that Jane and Sif had already been well established as discrete individuals before their “merger”, Rick Jones/Captain Marvel might be a better analogue). All that said, Wein didn’t seem to be interested in tipping his hand on the matter just yet, so we fans were going to have to put a pin in it for the nonce.
The Odinsword, aka the Oversword, is another deep cut (sorry) from the newly-imagined lore that Stan Lee and Jack Kirby had piled on top of their Norse mythological source material, back in Thor‘s glory days. As originally depicted, it was a good bit smaller — if still rather impractical for conventional use (see panel from Journey into Mystery #117 [Jun., 1965] shown at right; text by Lee, art by Kirby and Vince Colletta).
Following its introduction in the “Tales of Asgard” backup strip, the Odinsword had entered Thor’s modern-day continuity with issue #127. It had turned up on several occasions since then — most spectacularly in #156-157, when the Mangog had attempted to bring about the end of all things by drawing the blade from its scabbard… and had come extremely close to successfully doing so (see panel from Thor #157 [Oct., 1968] shown at left; text by Lee, art by Kirby and Colletta)…
Thor’s ruminations in the panel above were more than overdue, as far as my younger self of 1976 was concerned. I’d never been happy with the seemingly callous way the Son of Odin had thrown Sif over as soon as Jane Foster showed back up, even before Sif’s noble sacrifice; and it hadn’t sat well that we’d never even seen him properly mourn his longtime paramour.
Proceeding into the land of the Norns, our trio is attacked by a pair of plus-sized, uncouth guardians (rather unimaginatively dubbed “barbarics” by Wein [UPDATE, 5/16/26, 1:10 pm: As has been kindly pointed out to me by Blake Stone over at the Marvel Collected Editions Message Board, the barbarics actually first appeared in Thor #150, back in 1968 — so this one’s on Stan Lee). After taking a page or so to trounce these guys thoroughly, Thor and company continue on their way, until at last they come to the dark cavern wherein Karnilla the Norn Queen has her lair. “Down twisting passageways they wander…”
The slap Karnilla gives Balder may be deserved, or it may not; either way, it’s a bracing moment, and perhaps even a welcome one, if only from the standpoint of refining and enriching the Norn Queen’s characterization. In 1976, it had been way too long since she’d been written as having anything more to her than an unrequited passion for the Brave one and, of course, a propensity towards Eeevil.
Returning to Asgard’s royal city, our now-foursome don’t pause at the resistance HQ to pick up any reinforcements, but rather go straight to the palace — where, after another perfunctory skirmish with a passel of guards, Karnilla tries her hand(s) at breaking through Odin’s magical barrier:
Unfortunately, the aperture closes immediately, leaving Balder, Karnilla and the Vizier on the far side. So it’s Thor alone who’s greeted once again by a vision of his father’s glowering visage — and then, in an almost taunting fashion, invited to proceed…
Having made his debut back in Thor #154-157, Mangog had appeared in only one other storyline since then, in issues #195–198. Originally conceived by Lee and Kirby as possessing the raw physical power of “a billion, billion beings” — i.e., the entirety of an (allegedly) evil alien race whom Odin had punished by transforming them en masse into a single monstrous creature and then burying them — Mangog had been consistently portrayed as being virtually unstoppable. Much, much stronger than Thor, Mangog had been vanquished in both of his prior engagements only by the direct intervention of Odin — the second time coming at the literal cost of the All-Father’s own life (obviously, he got better).
Now, with Odin evidently still AWOL, Thor’s path to victory seems unclear, to say the very least. But in terms of setting the stage for an epic struggle worthy of the milestone #250th issue? Yeah, this reveal works.
And so we come at last to the main event itself. Thor #250’s cover is, entirely appropriately, another beauty by Jack Kirby and Joe Sinnott… but not only by them. As it turns out, Kirby’s pencilled rendering was proceeded by a preliminary color sketch by Ed Hannigan, which we present below as a special bonus:
Feel free to take a moment to compare Hannigan’s piece with the published version already shared at the top of this post, and then please join me as we proceed into our featured comic’s interiors…
Mangog had indeed appeared to have consumed himself completely back in #198, dwindling down to seeming nothingness in the palm of Thor’s hand, as he and we both watched. But, on the other hand, readers had also seen Mangog vanish into thin air at the climax of Thor #157, when Odin broke the spell that had imprisoned those billion billion aliens, returning them to life — only to be told in #195 that Mangog’s evil had become so strong and “persistent” that Odin had only been able to imprison him again. Hey, if we were going to buy Gerry Conway’s shaky rationale for Mangog’s first return, why shouldn’t Len Wein expect we’d do the same for this second one?
Len Wein’s explanation for “the strange lethargy that befell Asgard back in issue #240″ wasn’t really necessary — or, at least, it hadn’t been, prior to Wein’s cooking up the present storyline. Roy Thomas and Bill Mantlo had been pretty clear that it was Odin’s own absence from the Golden Realm that had been the cause of his people becoming all listless and dopey. Indeed, Wein himself had echoed that reasoning early in his own first issue, #242, in the dialogue between Thor and Odin right before Odin turned his back on his son. But since it was now clear that the real Odin was still missing, having presumably never made it back home — and the Asgardians have shaken off their lethargy regardless — another explanation for the phenomenon was required. (Personally, I think that the earlier rationale worked better, but your mileage may vary.)
“After all, my prince,” sneers Igron, “what proof hast thou of any of this?” And raising his hand, he restores the magical spell disguising Mangog as Odin. A moment later, more of the palace guards rush in. Unsurprisingly, they’re no more effective against Thor this time than in the last umpteen times they’ve attempted to take them — but in the end it doesn’t matter, as “Odin” blasts the Thunder God from behind, stunning him into unconsciousness,,,
The Vizier tries to protest “Odin”‘s harsh treatment of his helpless offspring, only to be felled by a blast of power from the impostor’s hand. Outraged by this, Balder and the Warriors Three charge forward…
While doing my research for this post, I fully expected to discover that Igron had somehow survived this seemingly fatal setback, and had returned in later years to bedevil Asgard anew — after all, that’s how things usually go with comic-book villains, right? But, no, not this time; best as I can tell, the ill-fated sorcerer remains deceased as of this writing.
Even as he goes crashing into a stone wall, Thor realizes what Mangog means to do next — he’s going to draw the Odinsword…
Wait, what? That’s it? After a build-up of eight months, the final battle between Thor and Mangog is over in a couple of pages — and what’s worse, ends only because, oops, Mangog “used himself up” (again!) right before he could pull the Odinsword free and doom the universe. In other words, Thor and Asgard (and all the rest of us) just got damn lucky.
No, no one expected Thor to defeat Mangog in hand-to-hand combat; it had already been well-established that this particular foe was well out of the Thunder God’s weight class. But it would have been nice if we could have seen Thor use his noggin to reason out that with the people of Asgard no longer feeding the false Odin their belief-energy, he only needed to keep Mangog busy long enough for his batteries to run down, instead of merely realizing it after the fact.
Of course, that version of events would have taken a few more pages to tell than our storytellers had left themselves. Ideally, this final chapter would have appeared in a double-sized issue; alas, both Marvel and their rival DC Comics were still a year or so out from realizing that they could make their numerical milestone issues even more special by going “giant” for a single month. In 1976, the best available option would probably have been to move the Big Reveal up an issue, to the end of #248, so that #249 could have been given over to making things look ever more dire, leaving #250 with the room to deliver a really suspenseful and exciting climax. Unfortunately, that’s not how things played out… with the end result that this “Spectacular 250th Issue” of Thor wasn’t really that Spectacular at all.
Still, what’s done is done, and back in May, 1976, we fans of the God of Thunder were simply going to have to shrug off our disappointment and try to look forward to what was coming next. As the “Next Issue” blurb at the bottom of #250’s last page indicated, the first order of business was clearly going to be “the quest for the missing Odin”. Given that the big guy had already been absent from Asgard for twenty-one issues now, one might expect that such a quest would be conducted expeditiously; in the end, however, it would take more than a year for Thor and his companions to find the absent All-Father and bring him home. By that time, there would have been another shake-up in Thor‘s creative team, one even more significant than Tony DeZuñiga’s arrival in #248… but for more about a young artist named Walt Simonson, and his first go at lifting the mighty Mjolnir (metaphorically speaking), you’ll have to return for our discussion of Thor #260, ten months from now.
Having been reading the late Silver Age Thor, one thing that annoys me is Thor still leaves Sif behind, just like she were helpless Jane Foster. Having given Thor an Asgardian girlfriend Stan and Jack proceeded to write her like most of their dewy-eyed women characters. Merging them comes off like a What If of the Jane/Thor breakup — what if she’d become a goddess after all? Which is not to say I had strong opinions on the change, but as the few Thors I’d read as a kid all featured Jane, I had the opposite reaction to you.
I wasn’t a regular follower of Thor in this era but I flipped through it on the stands. Perfectly readable, perfectly unremarkable. I did not have a problem with Mangog losing as he did, though you have a valid point. However he’s not that interesting a foe — I’m not sure a prolonged battle would have been an improvement, though I’m sure Kirby could have made it watchable.
Regarding Balder/Karnilla, one of my favorite moments of Walt Simonson’s run is where Balder makes it clear they should stop playing games and just bang each other as soon as they’ve saved the world.
That’s one of my favorite Balder/Karnilla moments, too.* I like to think of the Norn Queen getting all giddy after the Brave One’s mind-melting kiss and calling on Haag to assemble all of her forces for Balder.
If they’re not enough, she will say, I shall make more!
For what it’s worth: when I began studying the Scott Summers/Emma Frost relationship, I thought frequently of Balder and Karnilla, and wished that Balder and Cyclops would meet for a drink and debate over who had the “weirder” girlfriend.
“Truly, friend Scott. that reaction to the word ‘parsley’ is inspired on your lady Emma’s part, but my lady Karnilla easily surpasses it. Permit me to tell you the tale of the Viking, the ship’s masthead and the constipated albatross…”
*
See it in all of its glory in *Thor* #351, but be warned! Once you start looking at the Simonson run, it’s very hard to stop.
Since Jane Foster was an RN, it is unlikely she had cooties and could probably see her PCP if she did . . . .
Very trivial note:
In *Sgt. Fury* #11 (yes, the crackdown of Captain Flint Storm issue strikes again!), Dino Manelli disguises himself as a German soldier in order to divert a truck convoy (“umweg” is German for “detour,” a footnote tells us helpfully). In picking up the helmet, he admits that he hopes that it doesn’t have cooties.
Maybe Michael Moorcock was on to something when he wrote that to be a hero is, in a sense, to remain a child. (Fury was apt to call Dino a “Hollywood hambone.”)
Jane Foster became a doctor in *Thor* #1, published in 1998.
John Buscema and Tony de Zuñiga were very solid artists by themselves, and together make this 1976 Thor material of such authentic quality – and yet without surface dynamics that scream at the reader – that most fans probably didn’t realize just how good the drawing was.
With so many characters (and panels) to deal with, there’s really no place for them to throw in a “showstopper” splash or double page spread in the story . . . so their visuals serve Wein’s script in such a way that the undiscerning eye might not fully appreciate.
And yet I’m fully aware it was just another job-of-work for John B on the unending treadmill of monthly comics he was producing at ’70s Marvel (and well beyond), continually hitting deadlines and maintaining a consummate professional standard.
Big John always delivered but I must admit I wasn’t so keen at the time on DeZuniga’s more scratchy (pen not brush?) approach.
UK distribution was waning but it also felt that while the details and telling was different with new writers , some plot devices (“McGuffins” as Hitchcock called them) were being recyled (what? Ragnarok looms again?Mangog’s awake and a bit angry again? The Odin sword might be withdrawn? Odin’s fallen asleep? Over at FF, Galactus returns yet again to claim the Earth with another herald? Didn’t he get the memo the first time?
Then they get resolved in a flash and fizzle out in a rather unsatisfactory manner. Not that i would have noticed much of that or plot inconsistencies back then.
As I believe Mort Weisinger once remarked of the Superman books, the young readership turns over every five years, so why not recycle proven plots that worked before? But I agree that 1970s Marvel’s compulsion to repeat the Odinsword / Mangog / Ragnarok / Galactus stories makes for tough reading for those who do remember the 1960s Lee/Kirby classics that first introduced these themes.
While I prefer Sinnott, DeZuniga does a good job here, although his scratchy style would better suit Buscema’s Conan – not sure whether DeZuniga ever worked on that book.
Tony DeZuniga inked John Buscema on several issues of Savage Sword of Conan in the late 1970s and early 80s. DeZuniga also presumably worked over Buscema on Conan the Barbarian as part of “The Tribe” which was a group of Filipino artists that DeZuniga organized. The Tribe is credited with the inks / embellishments on a few issues of Conan in the mid-1970s, during the Belit storyline.
By 1976 I think the industry knew they had long-term fans and older readers (Marvel certainly did). Wein, a fan-turned-pro, must have been aware of it. So I doubt that’s the explanation.
Heck, Stan himself recycled “Loki seizes control of Asgard while Odin is off-guard” from Thor 176 for his last plotline and yeah, it’s tough reading. By that point I think he was phoning it in on everything but Spider-Man.
I like your idea as to how the story may have been improved, Alan, but, of course, we have to live with things as they were done. Overall, a very good yarn with plenty of suspense and drama building up as to what the hell was wrong with Odin this time, before the big reveal at the conclusion of ish 149, which I’m fairly sure was the first time I’d seen Mangog as I’d missed Conway’s story. The uncertainly is due entirely to my being unable to remember if I’d read Marvel Treasury Edition # 10, which reprinted the original Lee/Kirby Mangog epic, before or after this Wein/Buscema follow-up. Per the Marvel Database site, MTE # 10 was released on May 18, 1976, which would mean it came out either simultaneously or within a few days of Thor #150, which is unlikely to have been pure coincidence. Thinking it over, I more likely got Thor #150 at the Treasure Island Navy Exchange and got MTE #10 a couple of months later at the Lemoore NEX.
Either way, even with Big John B’s art on both Conway’s and Wein’s tales, they still can’t but help but pale in comparison with the Lee/Kirby epic, although even the ending of that seemed too perfunctorily simple — Odin wakes up, yawns, and undoes the spell that created the Mangog. But, of course, it was the build-up to that point, during which it seemed Thor and his fellow Asgardians were fighting a force of nature, like a hurricane, in form that somewhat resembled a cross between a minotaur and a tyrannosaur, but uniquely and horrifyingly ugly! In retrospect, it appears Kirby had painted the story into a corner in which reversing the magic spell that created the Mangog was only way out as he had already shown that all of Thor’s own might and powers were pretty much useless at doing anything other than mildly pausing Mangog’s march towards unsheathing the Odinsword. And Wein’s story likewise depended on once again undoing the magic spell that had enlarged the reborn Mangog. Of course, referring to that magic spell being the cause of the weakening of the Asgardians proved necessary for Wein to bring up in explaining Mangog’s revival in order for him to have a means to once again undo Mangog without seeming too much of a cheat. Also explains why it was necessary to show the Asgardians being aroused against the abuse of royal power by “Odin”, which apparently only became sufficient to break the spell after Mangog’s ruse had been fully revealed, and just in time! Another last second save! Yay! Well, maybe not so exciting for anyone who’d already read the previous two variations of the story. And as a baddie, Mangog is rather too much of a one-note character, full of hate and rage and not much else. I’m not aware that Thor made any later comebacks.
Meanwhile, the mystery remains as to the whereabouts of the real Odin, and for the life of me I can’t recall the resolution of that! I know I read it, as I continued to regularly collect Thor into the mid-80s, only quitting within a year or so of the end of Simonson’s classic run (as writer, that is, with Our Pal Sal on art, doing a reasonably decent job of imitating Simonson’s art-style).
As to the Jane/Sif debate, I much preferred Sif, and at this point in 1976, I’d only read a very few reprints of any of the Lee/Kirby stories featuring Jane. It’d be over two decades before I’d get the Essential Collections of Thor, volumes 2 & 3, that I’d become more familiar with Jane as depicted by Lee/Kirby within the last couple of years before she was written out and Sif was introduced. During that period, in also reading more mid-60s FF, I noticed parallels in how Kirby used Jane in Thor and Alicia in the FF, such as using both as catalysts to have Thor get into a jealousy-driven slugfest with Hercules, and later adventures with the Rigellians and the High Evolutionary, and Ben Grimm getting into a jealousy-drivien slugfest with the Silver Surfer and onto the encounter with Him (before he was metamorphosized into Warlock). Jane’s continued presence in Thor, however, IMO, clearly posed a problem for Kirby as she increasingly seemed a hindrance to the type of stories Kirby wanted to tell, and which included greater involvement of other Asgardians. Jane no longer fit well within the stories, unless she was to be transformed into a super-powered being herself, but that didn’t fit her character as already well-established by then. Of course, decades later, other Thor chroniclers would change her sufficiently that she would herself become a variant of Thor himself. Conway appeared to want to re-imagine Jane in a manner in which she was imbued with the fighting spirit of Sif, and so more of fit companion for Thor, although that meant sacrificing Sif herself. I was just as happy to have Jane fade back into obscurity in favor of Sif’s return. But, as in the nature of any series that goes on for decades, Jane eventually made another, more significant comeback. And so it goes.
Well, here we are, a mere ten issues away from the only time in my life when I’ve regularly read Thor (when Simonson took over) and things are starting to feel familiar to me. Maybe by this point, Alan, we’d finally become comfortable in enough in our friendship to begin talking comics, because parts of this story are familiar to me, and I can’t imagine anyone pushing Thor on me at this time in my life other than you.
Regardless, I always preferred Sif to Jane Foster and had enough familiarity with the book to be unhappy with the way writers always chose to portray the character, as just another female to be rescued, despite her own power as both warrior and goddess. The fact that Sif was forced to stand apart from the Warrior’s Three, even though she was clearly as much a part of the group as Volstagg, at least was unfair. As was the way Thor bounced back and forth between the two romantically. Looking at it today, I actually think Wein’s solution of having Jane and Sif swap places, whether it be automatic in the shift from one realm to another, or with Sif’s sword being banged on the ground ala’ Thor’s hammer, was a good one. I still have no real use for Jane in the comics, but at least this juxtaposition of the two women is interesting.
As for the story, it was obvious that someone had taken Odin’s place, almost from the beginning. I’m not familiar enough with Thor to have guessed that it was Mangog-with the appearance of Igron, I assumed Odin was being played by Loki-but it was clear even to me that whoever that was, it wasn’t Odin. That was probaby Wein’s intent, since comics are not and never have been a subtle medium, but to build all this up to an “end of the world” moment like the drawing of the Odinsword and then have it just fizzle out-in such a milestone issue, no less, was disappointing in the extreme. Fortunately, we’re less than a year away from the beginning of the Age of Simonson, and I, for one, can’t wait. Thanks, Alan!
I hate to disappoint you, Don, but what’s coming up with Thor #260 is the beginning of a relatively short stint by Simonson as the book’s layout artist. The glories of Simonson’s writer/artist run are still a full seven years away, alas.
Aw crap! It felt like this was too early for the Simonson run, but I misunderstood what you wrote. Still, I believe I missed Walt’s short stint doing layouts, so I’ll just have to enjoy that instead.
I also have never cared for DeZuniga’s art or inking then or even now but Thor was a completist book for me so I was stuck. (And what is a Zuniga since de usual means of) Sif was in place when I started reading comics and I had read very few reprints with Jane but I liked her more than Sif from her first appearance back and since she was comatose in that it’s saying a lot. I had been into Norse mythology a little before comics so all the liberties taken with the pantheon bothered me and especially what they did to Sif. She wasn’t a brunette, a warrior, or even that good a ‘person’ and comics Sif was cookie cutter chaste female love interest who wasn’t a very good warrior. I’d have been happy if the hinted at sharing of a body between the women had happened or if Sif’s return had been temporary. It’s notable that the loss of Jane was treated with as much depth as Sif’s ‘death’.
Tony de Zuñiga was a great Filipino artist. He was the first to come to the United States to work for the Big Two circa 1971, followed by Nestor Redondo, Alfredo Alcala, Alex Nino, and so many other talents. Tony co-created Jonah Hex at DC with writer Michael Fleischer.
From Quora: the surname Zuñiga is a habitational place name of Basque origin from a place in Navarre named Zuñiga (in Castilian: Zúñiga) from Basque zuin ‘cultivated field’ + iga ‘incline slope’. This surname was used for families who lived in or near the town of Estuñiga in the province of Navarre.
Back to me: Magellan and other Spanish explorers came to the Philippines in the 1500s, and the culture to this day has a heavy Spanish influence.
Yes the idea of Jane and Sif as Don Blake/Thor or Billy Batson/Cap had potential. Though apparently everyone just shrugged their shoulder and forgot about it. https://www.cbr.com/abandoned-love-remember-when-jane-foster-and-sif-shared-a-body/
Welcome to the World of “B Comics!”
Before heading out for my early Saturday morning runs, I peek to see what comic Alan’s reviewed. That way, while my Nikes get their workout, I can cast my mind to said issue for initial thoughts before reading the review over a pot of coffee when I return home. In the case of Thor #250, I recall a comic book that was solidly lodged in the “Good, But Not Great” category. Len Wein knew how to craft a decent story and could fill the ballons with decent dialogue – as opposed to poor Jack Kirby in Capt. America. While hardly inspired, John Buscema’s sheer talent prevented him from ever delivering inferior art. Tony DeZuniga’s sketcher touches brought a less polished, but still appealing finish to the pencils. Hence, what I term a “B Comic.”
We’re also entering a time when my interest in comics had begun to wane. Given what we felt was a rather lackluster slate for Marvel, my friends and I were slowly drifting away from what had been a wonderfully obsessive hobby as middle schoolers. At this point, the only two series that truly captured my attention were Iron Fist and the X-Men. I was the final one of our group to step away from collecting. This occurred about a year from now, ironically with Walt Simonson’s first issue. While that art stood heads and padded shoulders above what had been on Thor, the aliens who had captured Odin and spoke in all lower case weren’t enough to hold my attention.
As for the delightful Becky and Veronica debate, I’m of two minds. While clearly Sif fits much better into Thor’s world, the heart wants what the heart wants which means the Odinson’s going to hold an eternal torch for the lovely Jane Foster. Given that, much like Tony Stark’s lingering feelings for Pepper, I tend to like he and Thor being single. This opens the door for romances and flings accompanying their myriad adventures.
On a final note, while I was a tad harsh on Jack Kirby a couple paragraphs back, let me add that despite Mangog being a one-trick pony, the character is an absolutely dominating visual. One that could have only come from Kirby’s incredible imagination.
Thanks again to Alan for taking another excellent review!
I didn’t buy comics for their covers, but for rare exceptions ( and this would normally be for those by Steranko or Frazetta). Thor#149 and #150 are two of those exceptions.
Thanks to MikeBreen1960 to catching me out out…I am 100 issues behind!
Never read these issues. They seem decent. I’m glad that Len Wein, rather than having Odin acting ridiculously out-of-character for an extended period of time as part of some sort of ultra convoluted scheme to save Asgard that only he could understand, instead turned out to be Mangog in disguise.
I guess one could say that the combination of John Buscema & Tony DeZuniga did give the Thor series something of an illustrative look & feel that suited the mythological-inspired characters & plots. It’s not my favorite art team, to be sure, but I suppose it does the job well enough.
Wein’s account of the readers writing in to complain about Jane Foster and demand the return of Sif, only to then later pivot 180 degrees and complain about Sif and demand the return of Jane Foster, is a very good reminder that a certain segment of fandom has *always* been fickle and ultimately impossible to please, that it has only been social media that has magnified this in recent years, and that creators are best off just doing their own thing and ignoring a group of people who will never be happy, no matter what you do.
I am immediately reminded of something the late writer & editor Mark Gruenwald once stated “The writer’s job isn’t to give the fans what they want. The writer’s job is to give the fans what they didn’t even know they wanted.” Credit to Steven Grant for citing this, who then added his own advice: “The best ideas are usually the ones that are almost obvious, the ones that when you get it you stop and wonder why no one ever came up with it before.” I quoted both those gentlemen when reviewing one of the recent Star Wars movies from Disney, because I felt that the efforts to try to “give the fans what they want” were ultimately futile & self-defeating. The same can definitely be said for mainstream superhero comics.
That statement about the writer’s job certainly seems to be well illustrated in Thor.
Stan Lee and Jack Kirby (and others) established the expectations for how Thor stories ought to be and later writers seem to have found themselves on something of a difficult decision on how to follow up on those expectations.
Gerry Conway and now Len Wein, ever the reliable workers, mostly attempted to follow the established patterns and that may come across as somewhat repetitive. Later writers did not stray too far either, except perhaps for Roy Thomas insistence on binding the Eternals to the Marvel Universe by way of Thor. As we reach 1983 and #337 Thor has become an interesting opportunity for a daring new writer, as the property is then perceived as somewhat stale but still viable.
Enter Walt Simonson, easily the most successful Thor creator since Lee and Kirby – arguably ever. And he did dare, and we are all grateful and entertained for that.
Is it just me, or was it a monstrous missed opportunity that Starlin never took a run at Thor? Seems to me like maybe it was…
Yeah, I’d have loved to see Starlin take on Thor as writer/artist, especially during this period. I think the closest we ever came was the B&W Marvel Preview #10 (which I may or may not write about here next year), which he pencilled, but Tony DeZuñiga inked (and Len Wein wrote), along with four 1993 issues of Thor that he wrote only, and one in 2001 that he only drew.
It must be catching – Alan slips up and refers to # 248 as #148 (the one with the Buckler/Sinnott/ Giacoia cover), and it carries over to the comments. Spiritof64, did you mean #249 and #250, not #149 and #150?
It’s an odd thing with Sif and Jane. Jack Kirby always seemed to want strong female characters with agency (much like his Roz), whereas most people (including me) would blame Stan Lee for a depowering, misogynistic interpretation of women. So what happened with Sif? If she was supposed to be a more fit (as in apt) companion for a warrior god, she pretty much failed from the get-go. All she did, apart from maybe her first two panels, was get defeated, kidnapped, held hostage and generally call on Thor to help her out of a jam. You can’t even say it was the fault of the dialogue over-writing the artist’s intentions, it was all too often there in the pictures. Sif should have been a much more appropriate mate for Thor, but she never was in these stories (maybe in later issues, but not at this time). And with all that said, I still preferred her to Jane.
If I’d thought of it as head canon in time, I might have had Odin take pity on his son’s lonely original exile as Don Blake, and send his wife Sif to keep him company, made mortal as Jane Foster, only it took her (and Thor) longer to realise who she was, so she almost appeared as two separate characters.
Like I said regarding Alan’s last very good post about Thor, there’s nothing very new about these issues. An awful lot of it feels like a retread of stories already done, which unfortunately is a feeling I have quite often with Len Wein’s writing. Even one of my all-time favourite artists, the very great Big John Buscema, seems to be only going through the motions here.
Whoops! Thanks for the catch on “148”, mike. Fixed now (at least I *think* I got ’em all). And if I “infected” your comment with my error, Spirit, my apologies.
(Meanwhile, I evidently referred to Thor #250 as the “200th issue” in a post I’ve shared in all my Facebook comics groups. I am *on fire* today!)
It’s only fairly recently I grasped the unintentional irony of the first Marvel Age female superhero character whose powers among the group of males, render her as “The Invisible Woman”. Jack and Stan both wanted to take credit for that.
Thanks Mike….yes I do mean #249 and #250…..reading too many comics has frazzled my brain ( to borrow something similar from Flaming Carrot)!
Thanks for another excellent review Alan. Marvel milestone month turned about to be a personal milestone for me. Like yourself years earlier and as Tom Brevoort discussed on his blog, I was going through a period where my interest in certain Marvel comics was waning. I had dropped Spider-Man after Conway left in 1975 (just lost interest). I had also just dropped the Hulk after its 200th issue in March 1976 (which claimed to be an anniversary issue but wasn’t much of one, it just had the Hulk fighting illusory versions of his old enemies). I was never much of a Hulk fan so it was easier for me to stop buying the Hulk series. But then I decided to stop buying Captain America with the 200th issue. Nothing against Kirby but I didn’t really love reading an 8 part story, and I just found I was no longer interested in the series although I still thought Kirby’s art was solid.
And then we come to Thor 250, which would be my last issue for several years. (By the way, Ia gree that it wasn’t really much of an anniversary issue just because Mangog appeared.) I’m not exactly sure why I decided to drop Thor since I did like this series and had been reading it since the late 60s. Len and Joh’s work was perfectly solid and technically fine. It’s possible I found the Mangog plot a bit repetitive. I think I may just not have been that interested in reading a long “Search for Odin” quest (which turned about to be true). It’s interesting to read your review today. It brings up points that never occurred to me at the time. Specifically, the Mangog storyline does not make any sense. In his previous appearances Mangog is simply a destructive force of nature that wants to destroy everything.
Instead we are supposed to believe he wants to pretend to be Odin and sit around for months? It just seems like Len wanted to come up with a big surprise ending..maybe. But still…
As for the Jane Foster/Sif question, I started reading Thor long after Jane Foster was gone, so I never had any great feeling for Jane even when I read about her in old Thor reprints. It appears that Gerry brought Jane back to cause some plot complication but it’s not clear what he had planned when she and Sif became one person. I was perfectly fine with Sif returning in Thor 249. It’s interesting to note that other than a brief appearance in a fill-in issue, Thor 279, Jane Foster would not be seen again until 1983, and that would be to get rid of her seemingly for good…but of course we know how that works out……
As it turned out I would drop another series in Marvel Milestone month but not intentionally. I was going to college at this time, and comic distribution in my area was not good and I was also not near any comic shops. So I missed X-Men 100 (I never saw it). I had been reading the previous issues but since I missed X-Men 100 I decided not to continue buying the series. This lasted a little over a year until I came across X-Men 108 (the first Byrne issue), I was hooked, although totally confused and did manage to eventually get the back issues I missed including X-Men 100, so I will be interested in reading what you have to say about that issue.
My interest in Marvel continued to wane and after Steve Englehart’s departure from Dr. Strange and Captain Marvel I did drop those books as well. However I did not drop the Avengers, although there were certainly some good reasons to do so… I am looking forward to your discussion of Avengers 150 (and 151). Thanks Alan.
I fully agree with Rick’s comment about Thor being a ‘B’ list comic during this period. It was always solidly crafted but rarely inspired. I enjoyed it as a reliable read back in the day, but always knew I would not be blown away as I was by the kind of material Englehart, Gerber, McGregor and Starlin were producing.
It didn’t really become a must-read for me until Thomas, Buscema and Palmer took over a couple of years later.
It always bugged me that Thor and the other Asgardians regarded Odin as ‘all wise’. This was the guy who thought it a good idea, for example, to leave the god of mischief in charge of the Realm Eternal. He always came across as a petulant, capricious, emotionally stunted manbaby.
And such a person should never be in a position of responsibility, right? Hmmm…
Thor might have been a B comic creatively ( an opinion I agree with) but I think it was one of Marvel’s best selling comics at the time. Of the Marvel Treasury editions, Spidey was first. FF second and Thor third. Not definitive proof of success of course! Gerry Conway moving to DC in ’75 was a really big thing, as he had been the main feature writer to 3 of Marvel’s biggest sellers ( and also had time on the Hulk).
I got one of the Thor Treasury Editions around this time. Without Googling it, I vaguely recall that it reprinted the Thor/Hercules/Pluto storyline. But for me, an eight-year-old kid with no access to original copies of the Lee/Kirby Thor, although I did somehow have a few original Lee/Kirby Fantastic Fours by then, it was a miracle, and I literally read it until it fell apart.
The third Marvel Treasury Edition featured the battle with Hercules & Pluto, the tenth featured the conflict with Mangog. Amusingly both included a chapter titled “The Holocaust and the Hammer!” Stan must have forgotten he’d already used that for a title for the later story, although that makes me wonder how many times a particular story title got re-used, and if any were used three or more times.
It was weird to read the Thor annual telling his first clash with Hercules and see it was titled “When Titans Clash.” It’s the only time I’ve seen that title that it wasn’t used as a joke (contrary to cliche it wasn’t used that much in Ye Olden Days).
Sales figures for 1976 tell us that Mad magazine was far and away the best selling comics publication in the U.S. with 1.7 million copies sold per issue (but this was down from peak circulation of 2 1 million per issue in 1973). In contrast, Howard the Duck no. 1 was a big breakout hit with about 250,000 copies sold.
On average, the top five Marvel titles of 1976 were the Amazing Spider-Man, Fantastic Four, the Incredible Hulk, the Avengers, and Thor. Only the first three of those were selling on average over 200,000 copies. Thor was around 170,000 in 1976. For context, Marvel and DC used to cancel any book that sold under 200,000 copies per issue only a few years earlier.
With shrinking page count (of story material), lower quality printing (inks no longer jet black inside, only on covers), cheaper paper (especially Marvel), and rising prices, the Bronze Age had slowly decreasing readership.
To my mind, Buscema’s work on Thor circa 1970/71 – the “Infinity” saga and the double-sized issue fight with the Silver Surfer, etc. – was “A” work and the best the book ever looked, even better than when Kirby was drawing it, although of course Colletta dragged down Kirby’s pencils, but, as a poster noted above, by 1975/76 Big John was merely turning out quality B-level work. Buscema was incapable of doing *bad* work, but in the early ‘70s he was at the height of his powers, and I’m sure the challenge of stepping into Kirby’s shoes spurred him to do his very best. By the Bicentennial he was somewhat less inspired, and, as I think I said above, while I don’t find DeZuniga to be a bad embellisher at all, I prefer the Buscema/Sinnott pairing.
I agree about Buscema’s peak era, owning Silver Surfer no. 4 and other early issues. Even his short stories in Tower of Shadows and Our Love Story (I own no. 5 because of Steranko) are beautifully drawn and with that extra *something* that elevates the art above his still-excellent subsequent years.
At least Jane Foster/Sif was starting to be treated as a stronger character after years of being a typical Stan Lee drippy female (think Sue Storm, Jean Grey, ‘Oh, I’m going to faint…’)
Female characters in Marvel comics started to be written better in the 1970s than they had been in the previous decade. Maybe not all that much better, but still an improvement. Of course, that largely depended on the particular writer of any given story. And at least well into the ’80s if not later, prominent female writers and artists were very rare on any Marvel Comics. Sure, there was Marie Severin working as an artist on a few titles in the late 1960s and into the ’70s, but aside from a few brief fill-ins by other female artists, she was about it. And the few female writers mostly only worked on the titles starring female characters in the early ’70s, none of which even got up to six issues. Chris Claremont was probably the best writer of female characters of any writer at Marvel in the Bronze Age.
I always appreciate your write-ups but you really put in the work this week, well done. Also I really dig DeZuñiga’s style.
Nothing to do with any of the previous, but it’s just occurred to me that we should all maybe create a template for comments that always includes: “Thanks for the excellent research and review, Alan”.
aww, shucks! Thanks, mike.
Wow, you covered a lot of ground with this one, Alan! Thanks as always for an entertaining and insightful review.
Not much to add to previous comments, except that I’d always found Odin to be such a capricious, stubborn, self-sabotaging jerk (“What sayest thou? The Realm Eternal lies in mortal peril? Yeah, but it’s time for my nap, so…”) that my reaction to the revelation that he was Mangog in disguise was to wonder how we were supposed to tell the difference.
On Sif vs. Jane: one advantage of using Jane was that it built up the drama. In Thor’s first fight with Hercules, for instance, the Lion of Olympus wins because Odin in one of his fits of pique has cut Thor’s strength in half. The crowd flocks after the new cool god; Jane refuses to abandon Thor; Odin tells her to go to his boy and for once admits he’s been a complete jackass. NonePlu of that with Sif.
Plus the handling of Jane’s departure was a mess: https://atomicjunkshop.com/asgardian-love-exciting-and-new/
On the quality of this era I agree that while enjoying Marvel in this period it’s got a certain generic quality; reusing characters like Mangog and (upcoming) the Stone Men of Saturn was fun (and I imagine fun for the writers too) and I enjoyed these stories as a teen, but reading now there’s a “processed American cheese” quality I don’t get from the Silver Age’s better books, or from Englehart, Gerber or Starlin. I have no urge to reread them (no reflection on Alan, of course) whereas I could happily rereading Simonson’s run again. That’s true of several books besides Thor.
To be fair Wein’s work was still way better than Roy Thomas’s Ring of the Nibelungs retelling or the incorporation of the Eternals, or any of Mark Gruenwald’s work on Thor.