This was originally posted on blogger. Introduction

Avatar: The Last Airbender tells of a Asiatic, fantasy world with four great nations: the Water Tribes, the Earth Kingdom, the Fire Nation and the Air Nomads. Some people in those nations can bend the elements, using their powers for good or evil. A hundred years before the show’s beginning, the Fire Nation declared war on the others and are about to finish what they started. Only the Avatar can unite all four elements and bring balance to the world.

Avatar is a kids’ show, but it’s not just a kids’ show. It’s a cinematic master-piece, with hand-drawn animation and deep references to East Asian religions and martial arts. It has a story that will blow you away. It tells of balance & destiny, loss & family, changing cultures, coming of age, and peace & violence. Those are the themes, at least, that I will discuss here… but watching it brought about far more inspiration than I can discuss in a blog-post.

I urge you to watch this show. After this introduction, I’ll be assuming you have… Don’t worry – you can always read my blog later. But Avatar cannot wait – the fate of the world lies in your hands.

Balance & Destiny

“My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old days – a time of peace… When the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation and Air Nomads. But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked.”

– Katara, Book 1: Ep. 1

Balance and Destiny are key elements of the Avatar story. These elements that make it a legend, rather than just an animation, in that they make the action and the cultures portrayed in a spiritual context.

First off, there’s balance. The idea of balance probably comes from Taoism. In Taoism, there is the Yin and the Yang which represents the sun and moon or male and female. Yin and Yang is referenced directly In Book 1 Ep. 20, when the moon spirit comes down from the spirit world and takes the form of a fish – the balance is threatened when Commander Zhao captures the Moon spirit. At other times, the characters must balance the rage of warring nations, the home of spirits with fast-paced industrialization, and the elements too: fire, earth, wind, and water.

In regards to the elements, the Fire Nation is a grand force that pushed them out of balanced. They started the war with Sozin’s Comet, an astrological moment that gave them enough power to slaughter the monks of Aang’s childhood. In these moments of destruction, the Fire Nation forgot about the balance in the world. They became consumed by their greed, and did not balance pride with compassion. They became a more powerful nation but lost a sense of themselves: their cultures, traditions, and life.

We can learn from the Fire Nation’s mistake in the non-Avatar world. Here, we must balance our desires for money with our friendships; our ego with our humility; our work and our life. Wiser people than me have thought of this, so it’s better to read about Taoism and the other traditions referenced in Avatar before making claims. However, I do think that the lessons about balance that the Avatar seeks to create are relevant to us, too.

Now, destiny. Take Prince Zuko, a character whose destinyis split. His great-grandfather is Fire Lord Sozin, the one who started the war. But his other great-grandfather is Avatar Roku, whose reincarnation is meant to restore balance to the nations. Poor Zuko’s life is in turmoil because of actions of his fore-fathers, and no real fault of himself. This is a theme in the novel, with characters being thrust into situations or duties that they did not ask for. Zuko spends much ofthe seriessearching his soul and trying to understand his true destiny – though this causes great anguish (much like real life: it is never easy to go against a path set by your family). His half-scarred face represents his split heritage and his undecided destiny: one side cursed but longing for the Fire Lord’s acceptance, the other side open to the creation of a new world.

Aang, too, is burdened with responsibilities that he didn’t ask for. Everyone expects him to “bring balance to the world,” because that is what the Avatar has done for centuries. Aang is only a twelve-year-old kid, but he takes on this responsibility with great diligence. He has no other choice, after all – if that is what the Avatar has done for 10,000 years, who is he to stray from that path? That sense of destiny is what gives the series intense weight, because the balance of the elements lies on the protagonists’ shoulders. It’s also what gives us confidence in the characters, because we know that with destiny on their side, they cannot fail. As Martin Luther King Jr. said, “the arc of history bends toward justice.”

But it is not easy to bring balance to the world. It is not done by winning one battle, jailing on bad person, or learning one element. Destiny – our duty to the world – takes a life of perseverance, reflection, and commitment. With patience (and some story-telling), Aang is able to bring balance to two warring tribes (Book 1: Ep. 11). With reflection, Aang is able to unlock his seven chakras (Book 2: Ep. 20). And with commitment, he and his friends are able to defeat the Fire Lord and his armies, when all other hopes were lost (Book 3: Ep. 20).

For the characters in Avatar, it was never easy to discover their destiny, or bring balance to a world in such disarray. Goodness is never easily won. And yet, they did it. In our world that’s full of evils like inequality and greed, I believe it is our destiny to restore balance in any way we can.

Loss & Family

Leaves on the vine

Falling so slow

Like fragile tiny shells

Drifting in the foam

Little soldier boy

Come marching home

Brave soldier boy

Comes marching home

So sings Uncle Iroh on the birthday of his lost son, Lu Ten. Iroh transformed when he lost his son. He went from being a fiercesome general – the Dragon of the West – to the kind old man who loved and mentored all. In his vignette in Tales of Ba Sing Se, we focus on the loss he faced in this long war. Lu Ten, in a way, symbolises the countless nameless, faceless soldiers that die in great battles. As tears flow from Iroh’s face, and his voice cracks singing his lullaby, we can sense some of the magnitude of his loss.

Loss shaped him to be the kind soul he is, and so too did it shape Katara, daughter of Kya. Because her mother died, and her father went off to war, Katara assumes the role of a mature, responsible adult in the Southern Water Tribe. Like many others in the story, she is unwillingly thrust into adulthood because of violence a loss that occured early in life. Katara performs this role so well, but this tragedy had lasting impacts on her, too. She is as fierce as she is kind when confronted with the man who murdered her mother in the name of the Fire Nation, even using blood-bending on a suspect. Despite her ferocity, Katara has suffered tragedies. When she cries out for her dad – pleading him and Aang not to abandon her (Book 3: Ep.2)– it becomes clear that she has been deeply affected by losing loved ones. Part of her is still the young girl who cried out for her lost mother, and would do anything to get her back. In part, this drives her to strike out against the Fire Nation and have hope in the Avatar. But in her water-bending prowess and vast accomplishments, her loss is never forgotten.

Finally, Zuko and Azula also face loss; not from the death of their parents, but by their rejection. Zuko is unloved and disregarded by Ozai, his cruel father. But even after banishment, a lifelong scar, and humiliation, Zuko still craves Ozai’s approval. I think this shows the way that family shaped Zuko, even with all that he went through. Raised in the Fire Nation palace, loved by his mother and admiring his father, Zuko couldn’t help but dream to be accepted by the Fire Nation and aspire to become Fire Lord. Azula, too, was born into a war-hungry, violent family. Her mother, Ursa, deemed her monstrous, which led to an exaggeration of that trait and a reluctance to grow close to anyone. Azula, like her fore-fathers in the Imperialist Fire Nation, seeks power and victory – not balance or friendship – as her teenage dream. And when this is torn from her by Zuko, and when her friends also turn on her, she is abandoned in her own mental torture.

It’s important that Avatar: The Last Airbender deals with loss. It shapes the characters in ways that I can only attempt to understand. That is the legacy of war: not victory or conquest, but unimaginable grief.

Changing cultures

Few children’s shows deal with genocide, but Avatar tackles the topic bravely. While Aang was in the iceberg, the Fire Nation went to each Air Temple and killed the Air Nomads – the monks, children, and venerable teachers that Aang knew and loved (including Monk Gyatso, Aang’s tutor and advocate). Aang comes to know this suddenly in Book 1: Ep. 3, when he sees the remains of the Southern Air Temple. He is driven to the Avatar state, searching for vengeance on those who destroyed his family. How can it be, to be the sole survivor of a genocide? To be the last air-bender? How large was his guilt at being absent when the genocide happened? (Book 1: Ep. 12)

This guilt becomes anger when Aang finds out that the NorthernAir Temple has been remade by a steam-punk group with engineered gliders (Book 1, Chap. 17). At first, Aang hates the idea of his spiritual home being used for this new purpose. His conservatism is understandable. How can these people change a culture that is on the brink of extinction? The engineers knew little of the Air Nomads, and still took over the sacred temple with no authority to do so. Eventually, Aang accepts what has happened to the temple. He understands that the engineers need a place to live, and have tried their best to imitate some Air Nomad traditions without the powers of bending. Nonetheless, it is important to give respect to communities and traditions we have built from, and respect their soveirgnity in the modernized world.

 

As a migrant through time, Aang also experiences the change in the Fire Nation after they became an Imperialist power. In Book 3: Ep. 2, Aang goes to Fire Nation school, and learns about the false history they tell in annihilating the Air Nomad’s army (in reality, the Air Nomads were monks and had no military force). Later in that episode, he teaches his schoolmates the bright and lively dances of the old Fire Nation, letting them loose and liberating them from the oppressive education system that resembles Victorian England. Their students are brought up to be soldiers and despise the other three great civilizations. This education system was really interesting to me – it shows not only have the Fire Nation oppressed others, they have repressed their own fluorishing, creative culture.

The Fire Nation twists their cultures in more ways than one. Prince Zuko loses his ability to fire-bend when he lets go his hatred for Aang. Previously, that hatred was what gave him – and all other fire-benders – the power to bend. So Aang and Zuko seek to re-learn fire-bending (Book 3, Ep. 12). They find theSun Warriorsand meet the last Dragons: Ran and Shaw. The Dragons take the Chinese form, with long bodies and noble whiskers, rather than the Westernized dragons seen in most American media. Ran and Shawteach Aang and Zuko the origins of fire-bending: an art with beauty and life, rather than hate and aggression. With this, Zuko’s fire-bending becomes stronger than before, and more in line with the original teachers. This story is yet another example of how the Fire Nation transformed their culture, leading with fear and oppression rather than its noble origins.

(there’s also Avatar Day, where an Earth Nation town burns statues of the Avatars in retaliation of a former leader. This town ends up honoring Aang for saving them. This is an example of how great figures like the Avatar can change cultures).

Cultures change constantly in our lives. Some of that can be good, but it’s worth considering when it’s not. In Avatar, cultures change mostly from war and conflict. In particular, this changes the fabric of the Fire Nation. Everyone born in such a culture becomes someone they are not meant to be.

Coming of age

Most of the main characters in Avatar are kids, and thus we see remarkable growth and maturity throughout the course of the series.

Take Prince Zuko, a banished teenager struggling to regain his honor. He starts out angry and obsessed with hunting the Avatar. Zuko is powerful, but harbors resentment to Azula and Ozai, feeling ostracized and desperate to prove his worth. Eventually, when Zuko is accepted by his father and has everything he had ever wanted, he realizes that it is not the right path for him. His Uncle was right – he realizes – and Zuko decides that to be his own man, he must forge his own destiny. With this resolve Zuko confronts his father and helps Aang bring balance to the Four Nations, playing a essential role in ending the war.

Saaka, too, is a character that grows from a Southern Water Tribe boy. He starts out cocky, ordering about the little kids in his village, but his humbled as he sees the Kyoshi Warriors and his element-bending friends. He loses a girl he loves to the heavens, and fights endlessly to save Suki from danger (not that she needed saving, anyways). His growth cumulates in Book 3, Ep. 4when he learns the Way of the Sword from Pian Dao. He spends hours painting, practicing, and meditating under this master. Such obedience would offend the proud water tribe boy, but Saaka takes it with stride. It pays off, too, as his swords-master challenges him to a duel and Saaka practically wins. His ingenuity and courage is tested many times in the series, but every time Saaka asserts himself as a valuable member of Team Avatar.

Aang, of course, bears the burden of being the Avatar. A hundred years ago, before the Fire Nation sparked destruction, Aang’s destiny drove him to run away from the Air Nomads. He was caught in a storm of despair and longing for his old childhood (Book 1: Ep. 12). In the series, he realizes that a lot rests on his shoulders. Defeating the Fire Lord was never going to be an easy task. However, Aang’s mentors help him in facing this massive challenge. Avatar Roku helps him learn the history of the Avatar and the Fire Lord(Book 3: Ep. 6), and the powers and peril of the Avatar State. Iroh hears Aang’s desperation and advises that: “sometimes life is like this dark tunnel. You can’t always seee the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving, you will come to a better place.” (Book 3: Ch. 19). Toph teaches Aang the strength of will and solidity that lets him become an earth-bender. Katara and Zuko teach him how to bend water and fire. And Guru Pathik helps Aang unlock his seven chakras and be free from his material possessions. These mentors help Aang face the challenges of his burdened life, a necessary component of coming of age.

Aang’s friends help him too – especially his budding romance with Katara. Katara offers immense emotional support to Aang, helping him bear the burden of the Hundred Years War. Only Katara can coax Aang out of the Avatar State, brought by the fury at losing Appa or his Air Nomad brethren. And Katara always believes in Aang, since the very beginning of opening sequence.

In some ways it is natural that Aang falls in love with Katara, but in other ways it’s odd because of the motherly, care-taking role that she plays in his life (Aang and Toph may have been a better choice). Nonetheless, their romance cements the support that they have for each other, a heart-warming consequence of the journey they went through.

It’s nice to read coming of age stories. It makes young children think about their experiences and what kind of person they want to become. And it makes old people like me reflect on our adolescence and what shaped us. In Avatar, we see the importance of mentors, friendships, and self-determination in making us the people we want to be.

Peace and Violence

“You were right about what Katara needed. Violence wasn’t the answer… But I have a question for you – what are you gonna do when you face my father?”

– Prince Zuko, Book 3: Ep. 14

The interplay of peace and violence is central to the Avatar narrative. Violence is the flame that starts conflict or a transformation… until peace is called to calm the storm.

Consider Zuko’s journey of banishment and eventual re-claiming of the Fire Lord. His journey starts with a violent tradition: the Agni Kai. This duel against his father is what scarred him, and marked his destiny to hunt the Avatar during his banishment. And, indeed, his “treason” was protesting a Fire Nation general’s decision to send innocent soldiers to die in battle. In both causes, Zuko fought violence with non-violence – maintaining his honor and showing his true self. When Zuko faces Azula in the Book 3 Finale, he must return to the violent tradition of the Agni Kai. This time, he wins, having knowledge of original fire benders, but he does not scar Azula in the same way his father scarred him. He uses violence as a means to achieving peace. And further, he risks his own life to save Katara, another selfless act that solidifies his position as a peaceful Fire Lord.

Iroh’s transformation, too, is one from violence to peace. We see Iroh as a laid-back, tea-loving Uncle in the beginning of the series. Later, however, we find out his bloody past: his ferocity in battle, his laughter at the siege of Ba Sing Se. His culture – which Zuko shared – is one that valorizes violence and the destruction of others, and so it is natural for him to have these traits from being born into it. However, as mentioned in Loss & Family, the death of Iroh’s son is what drives Iroh to become a peaceful man. He treats all people, no matter their nationality, as friends. He allows himself to go to Fire Nation prison to save Aang and his friends. The peace and self-sacrifice with which Iroh carries himself is the epitome of non-violence.

Another character that battles with violence is Katara. Her commitment to non-violence is tested when Zuko helps her find the man who murdered her mother (Book 3: Ep. 14). (Katara’s mother, Kya, sacrified herself by saying she was a water bender. Another example of self-sacrifice to protect others). Katara now has power over the man who kill her mother, but decides – with Aang’s encouragement – to forgive him, rather than take vengeance. She realizes that killing a man will not bring back her mother or her childhood – it will only continue the cycle of violence. As Aang says, doing nothing is easy, but forgiving is hard. Thus the path to peace tests Katara in a way that no battle could.

Aang and the Air Nomads are of course, non-violent till the end. Aang takes immense care of Appa and Momo, treating them like family even in the toughest conditions. When Appa is lost in Book 2, Aang cries and searches far and wide to find him again. Aang and the other Air Nomads are also devout vegetarians, showing their peaceful devotion to non-human animals and nature. And in battle, Aang avoids hurting his opponents. He dodges attacks thrown at him, and avoids striking by carefully tying up or otherwise incapacitating his opponents.

The fate of Fire Lord Ozai is the ultimate test of Aang’s non-violence. How will he treat this man – the descendent of the people who murdered his people? A man with plans to wipe out the entire Earth Nation? Aang asks the Avatars of the past, who tell him time and time again to “be decisive” and “finish” the Fire Lord. This answer was not satisfactory for Aang. He searches his heart and the lineage of the Avatars and finds an answer: energy-bending. Instead of killing Ozai, Aang takes his fire-bending powers away from him. He ends this bloody war without a single needless death.

Conclusion

You probably know why I like Avatar so much. There’s so much to unpack, and my blog-post only scratched the surface (some other themes: friendship, resistance, gender empowerment). Each episode has it’s own story, beautifully wrapped in a 25-minute ball of goodness. The epic-ness of the saga parallels Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and Eragon – the last two of which shaped my childhood in many ways.

I think Avatar is a powerful example of how fiction can really make a difference. The lessons we learn from Aang, Katara, Zuko or Iroh inspire us to be better people and bring balance to our own lives in any way we can.

I feel really grateful that the show exists, and that so many talented people put time into writing, story-boarding, animating, music-ing, sound-tracking, and spreading the message to kids and adults across the world. The lessons of Team Avatar will not be forgotten, and remain dear to my heart.

1 comments captured from original post on Blogger

**Unknown said on 2020-07-27** The specific, concrete examples you provided reminded me of literary analysis essays I wrote in high school. I feel your inspiration in your writing. I laughed aloud when you implied that Lord of the Rings did not shape your childhood in many ways, either because you read it later or because you found it less meaningful.