From the South Pole Iceberg to the Republic City Portal: Part Thirty Three

ATLA Book Two: Earth

Chapter Fifteen: Tales of Ba Sing Se

In which Iroh’s tale makes everyone cry. A lot.

Once again, Book Two: Earth brings us a high point of the show in the form of “The Tales of Ba Sing Se”. It is, of course, most notable for its unique structure, being presented as a series of vignettes that do little to advance the main plot of the series, instead showing a series of uneventful days the main cast spend in Ba Sing Se. The uneventful nature of the story is important because it helps build a sense of the time the cast spend in Ba Sing Se, for the first time in the series being properly rooted in one location instead of traversing the Avatar world. Moreover, the rooted nature of the story gets at the heart of what makes the Avatar franchise: the way it is willing to spend quiet moments with its characters, making each of them distinct and unique. As a result, it seems best to break down my analysis of this episode into each individual tale, exploring what each one tells us about its titular character(s).

The Tale of Katara and Toph

The series’ focus on female friendship has become increasingly prominent throughout this season, with the relationship of these two characters being the main example of this, and so this tale makes perfect sense, considering where the characters are at this point in the series. The vignette works as an exploration of their friendship, highlighting how they get along in spite of their incredibly obvious differences.

These differences are on display from the beginning, with the early juxtaposition of Toph and Katara’s morning routines highlighting Toph’s “tomboy” characterisation and Katara’s  more feminine nature. In spite of these differences, Katara persuades Toph to go on a girl’s day out at a spa: she is determined to be friends with Toph in spite of their superficial differences.

The things the girls share in common become more apparent when Toph starts to enjoy the day. This enjoyment comes first on Toph’s terms, as she freaks out the staff by making the “alien” face with her mudbending, which Katara laughs along with: the two girls share a sense of fun and humour. Then she begins to enjoy the day on Katara’s terms, enjoying relaxing in the sauna, and actually liking how she feels after having some make up put on: while Toph is most comfortable not conforming to gender roles, she is happy exploring her more feminine side, especially in the company of a girl like Katara.

This bonding pays off in the tale’s final scene, where Katara and Toph send a group of mean spirited girls down the river after they insult Toph: in spite of their differences, Katara and Toph’s friendship is strog because they have each other’s back, and wouldn’t let anyone hurt the other. They also offer one another mutual support, with Katara’s comforting of Toph being noticeably maternal. She doesn’t question Toph’s not entirely true claim that she doesn’t care what other people think, instead expressing admiration for Toph’s attitude and quietly giving her the boost in confidence she needs anyway. In showing this maternal edge to their relationship the show acknowledges that Katara is older and in some ways more self-assured than Toph, who in some ways is incredibly confident in her abilities, but also frequently masks her insecurities (in this case around her appearance) with false displays of bravado. While they are different people, Toph and Katara balance one another out and support each other in a relationship that improves the show vastly.

The Tale of Iroh

This is the tale that everyone talks about, and as a result it can be somewhat surprising that it is placed right at the start of the episode, a structural point that speaks to the true nature of this vignette. It is not placed as the big emotional gut punch at the end of the episode, but is instead framed as just another story, highlighting the way Lu Ten’s death affects Iroh. Iroh’s grief for his son is a constant part of his character that informs everything he has become, but it is not something big and flashy that is drawn out in high-stakes parts of the story for angsty and overdramatic moments. Instead, it is a quiet grief, constantly in the background if the story.

So, why is this tale such a famous part of the show? Largely because it’s so impeccably written ad structured. Iroh helping the group of young boys run from the man whose window they break provides the emotional set up: we see how he would have been with young Lu Ten, laying the groundwork for the emotional reveal. Similarly, his helping the mugger who’s down on his luck shows how Iroh’s loss has turned him into the kind of man who wants to help people to atone for his failure to help his son. Meanwhile, his shopping in the market place lays out the plot elements necessary to peel away the layers to reveal he is celebrating his son’s birthday. The first time we hear him sing “brave soldier boy”, meanwhile, serves as emotional and plot set up, as it is used to show him comforting a crying boy, once again highlighting his paternal nature, while also setting the key element of the final gut punch in the tale, namely, the song’s reprise.

Ultimately, what this tale really gets at is the nature of Iroh as a character, highlighting the way his development works. From the moment we met him, Iroh was a character who has mostly changed his ways and been through most of his redemption story before the series begins, so he doesn’t change that much. What makes him a dynamic character is the way the audience’s understanding of him changes: we are first introduced to him as a comic relief character who balances out Zuko’s angst, but by this point in the series, we know enough about him to see the depth, shades of grey, and tragedy that informs his story.

The Tale of Aang

As with Iroh, the help Aang provides here reflects the grief that is currently driving him at this point in the series, namely his grief for Appa. He begins the tale looking through the Zoo, sad at the confinement of the animals, quite possibly having come to the zoo because he was looking for, or thinking of, Appa. It is particularly notable that before “Appa’s Lost Days”, the two characters most connected to Appa (Momo and Aang) have taes that heavily evoke his absence. As a result, helping the animals can be read as Aang trying to make up for the fact that, at the moment, there is nothing he can do to help his bison.

The juxtaposition of the animals in the zoo at the start of the tale compared to the enclosure at the end also draws out a key theme of the season, as we once again explore the mistreatment of animals by humanity: they are deeply unhappy in their cramped conditions at the start of the tale, and are clearly much more comfortable in the enclosure at the end. Once again, the series takes the time to emphasize the needs of animals and the need for humanity to respect for nature, setting up the themes of the next episode.

The Tale of Sokka

As with Iroh, Sokka gets a tale that really breaks down how he works as a character. In this case, the tale does this breakdown through the perspective of the comic relief aspect of his character.

The first thing worth noting is that Sokka is prompted into action after being called an “oaf”, providing a hint of the insecurity that will drive his actions in “Sokka’s Master”. The woman leading the Haiku class only sees him as a blundering comic relief character, so Sokka responds by seeking to prove he is worth more, only doing so because he fears that he is just comic relief, and isn’t worth anything else.

This insecurity is a part of Sokka even though he demonstrably is much more than a comic relief character. He’s the inventive, intelligent member of the Gaang who organises and plans for the group and improvises ideas to help fight back where his status as a non-bender limits his combat abilities. And his ability to improvise is in evidence here as he adapts to the haikiu-battle, creating poems on the spot. In this instance, his ingenuity combines with the comic relief aspect of his character, allow him to be a funny in a showboating way that is very different to main source of humour for his character, namely his everyman frustration at the fantastical elements of the Avatar world. As a result, the tale shows how the comic side of his character extends from the serious parts of his characterisation.

However, his showboating comedy is punctured with the “That’s one syllable too many” joke, returning him to the “everyman frustration” humour that drives his character. This is a fitting reflection of the fact that Sokka is still driven by his insecurities at this point in the show: Book Three will finally see him making peace with the person he is, but that’s a little way off for now.

The Tale of Zuko

Let’s look behind the scenes of the show for the first time. This tale is Katie Mattila’s first writing credit, and while she’s only a minor creative figure for the show, her contribution to the series is interesting. She is the only writer from this episode to write more scripts for the franchise, and is also the only person who wasn’t a staff writer to write more than one script for ATLA. She’s also the only non staff writer from ATLA to go on to write for LOK, where she was, for what it’s worth, the only female writer to contribute a full script, with writing credits for three episodes from Books three and four of the sequel series.

Mattila contributes a sweet and thoughtful vignette that explores Zuko as a romantic figure for the first real time in the series, as we see him go on a date with an Earth Kingdom girl. And it’s a date that successfully expands the things the show can do with his character, breaking down the angsty, brooding side of his character to get at the dorkier, funnier side of him. This dorkier side, which we have seen before comes out in full by setting his overdramatic angst against the mundane, and from his extreme discomfort with the ordinary. In a way, this humour is a reversal of the “ordinary man’s frustration with the fantastical” humour provided by Sokka, making this the perfect vignette to follow on from and contrast to Sokka’s tale.

The ending of the tale, where leaves the date because, in his words “it’s complicated”, shows that Zuko’s backstory means he is still closed off from being someone who can fit into an ordinary life. But notably, this is a moment of progress for Zuko, being the first time he appreciates an aspect of this life, ending the tale by admitting to Iroh that he had a nice time.

The Tale of Momo

It may seem strange that this is the tale that concludes the episode, focussing as it does on Momo, the least fleshed out character in the ensemble of “The Last Airbender”. However, this positioning within the episode makes sense when we consider what is to come. “The Tale of Momo” is placed at the end of the episode to lead into “Appa’s Lost Days”, with Momo searching for Appa before finding the footprint that will be a key plot point in the next episode.  As a result, this tale is the natural conclusion to the episode, leading into the next story.

Thematically, it is also the perfect lead in to the next episode. We explore animal agency in the most direct way the series has managed so far, as Momo is the subject of his own story, rather than an object in the Gaang’s narrative. We get to see Momo’s perspective on the loss of Appa: he is sad to have lost his friend, searching for him every time he sees a sign of Appa. We understand how he sees predatory animals, first running from the cats that try to eat him, before helping rescue them from the humans who want to capture and cook them: this tale becomes a story about animals banding together and saving one another from the threat humanity poses.

Animal Agency, environmentalism, and interconnectedness are themes that run through the season, and are all woven together in this tale. This provides the ideal set up for the equally experimental “Appa’s lost days”, which will take these themes and explore them at even greater length. Book Two: Earth is rapidly moving towards its endgame.

End of Part Thirty Three.

From the South Pole Iceberg to the Republic City Portal: Part Thirty Two

ATLA Book Two: Earth

Chapter Fourteen: City of Walls and Secrets

In Which Momo becomes the ruler of a dynasty, Aang and Sokka pose as Bus Boys, and everyone’s weirded out by a bear.

Back in the post on “Avatar Day”, we looked at how the “Gaang visits a Village” episode structure was left out of season two after that episode. We should also, by now, be very familiar with the basic structure of a “Gaang visits a village” episode. To recap, the Gaang visit a village or settlement in the Avatar world, and have a relatively self-contained adventure there, where they discover a problem in the community they visit, and help solve that problem. And in many ways, “City of walls and secrets” resembles that episode structure. Or, more specifically, the beginning of that episode structure, as it we are introduced to a settlement so vast and complex, it is too big for a “Gaang Visits a Village” episode, and instead requires a “The Gaang Visits a City” story arc.

The first hint of this comes in the introduction shot of lower Ba Sing Se from the train. First, we get the following exchange from the Gaang:

“Katara: Don't worry Aang, we'll find Appa.

Aang: It's such a big city.

Sokka: He's a giant bison! Where could someone possibly hide him?

[The scene shows the monorail entering the Inner Wall. Cut to Sokka, Katara, and Aang viewing the giant city through the windows.]

Sokka: Oh.”

The one shot revealing the sheer vastness of the city reveals the scope of the Gaang’s task in searching for Appa: it’s not a search that can be completed in an episode. And the glimpses we get of the lower ring reveal the city’s problems, as would be the case in an ordinary “Gaang visits a village episode”, but it is immediately apparent that these problems are far more complicated than those faced by previous settlements than the Gaang have previously faced: the shots from the carriage hint at deep set poverty and criminal activity in the lower ring, problems that point to a deep rooted systemic injustice driving the city. It’s not the sort of issue the Gaang can solve in an episode, and it is an issue that merits a longer story arc.

As the Gaang’s story moves from the lower ring to the Upper Ring, we are further exposed to the conspiracies that drive the city, most notably in the following conversation with government official Pong:

“Pong: You're the Avatar! I heard you were in town. I'm Pong.

Aang: Nice to meet you, Pong.

Sokka: So, Pong, what's goin' on with this city? Why is everyone here so scared here to talk about the war?

Pong: War? Scared? What do you mean?

Toph: I can feel you shaking.

Pong: Look, I'm just a minor government official. [Looks to the sides to confirm that no one is present except them.] I've waited three years to get this house. I don't want go get into trouble.

Katara: in trouble with who?!

Pong: Shh, listen, you can't mention the War here. And whatever you do, stay away from the Dai Li.”

As an interesting side note, we get the first hints of Toph’s ability to sense lies as she points out to Pong that she can feel him shaking, a hint towards her role in “Lake Laogai”. It is a hushed scene, with pong glancing around, terrified that he will be overheard and lose the comfortable place in the upper ring he has only just gained. We also get the first mention of the Dai Li, who at this point in the episode are still unknown figures, the mystery haunting the story before the final reveal of their true nature. The people who are best off in Ba Sing Se are afraid to speak out against the government, not wanting to be moved back down to a lower place than they have gained: it is a city where social status overrides the need for honesty.

As above, so below. The Gaang provide a window into the secrets and conspiracies that drive the upper ring of Ba Sing Se, while Zuko and Iroh provide a look at what it is like to live in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se, as we see how the lower ring is also kept silent by the secrets of the Dai Li. When Zuko calls the city a “prison”, he’s right in multiple ways. We can see how ordinary shopkeepers are pressed into not talking about the war, or anything bad going on in Ba Sing Se, while Zuko and Iroh live amongst visible poverty and inequality (the shopkeeper is almost certainly lying to the Gaang when he says there is no Black market): the people of the city are coerced into pretending they live in a perfect city, when that is demonstrably not the case. It is also a personal Prison for Zuko, who has to hide his identity to live in peace. The people of the city have to keep their dissatisfaction and fear hidden, just as Zuko has to keep his identity a secret. Zuko and Iroh’s living quarters provide a further contrast between the upper and lower rings: where the Gaang live in a large bungalow with big, open rooms, Zuko and Iroh live in a cramped apartment where it only takes Iroh a few moments to get spark rocks from their neighbours. The material divide in wealth between the lower and upper ring is evident throughout every aspect of the episode.

Iroh and Zuko’s secret is at risk due to Jet’s attempts to prove their true identities as members of the Fire Nation, a plot thread that gives the viewer a glimpse of the Dai Li, and the sinister nature of their operation. The glimpse of them kidnapping Jet just before the episode’s conclusion is a part of the steady reveal of their nature throughout the episode, a nature hinted at in Pong’s dialogue earlier, before they emerge now, the link between Zuko and Iroh’s story in the lower ring to the Gaang’s plot in the Upper ring party.

The party in the upper ring also provides a useful role for Toph in the episode. We are given a glimpse into her role as the daughter of a wealthy family, as she takes on the role her parents taught her to play to help herself and Katara sneak into the party. Toph explains that while she is hardly naturally “ladylike”, she learned how to play the part her family expected her to by years of training, highlighting the false, acted nature of high society. This is an episode that is all about masks and disguises, with Zuko and Iroh disguising themselves as refugees, and the city of Ba Sing Se disuising itself as a peaceful utopia, a theme that perfectly fits Toph’s backstory. We see how her class, and role as an upper class girl, was something that forced her to disguise her true self.

The performed, false nature of high society is further explored through Katara, who, being a teenage girl from a society that has been crippled in both size and wealth by the hundred year war, is arguably the least privileged member of the Gaang. In spite of position as a marginalised character, she takes to playing the role of an upper class girl like a duck to water, persuading Long Feng to escort them into the party, showing that class is something that can be faked, as long as successfully act like someone who has been trained to be a part of high society. The party is constantly demonstrating the false, performed nature of the upper ring: the guests who sit next to Bosco do so for nothing more than a sense of status. It is quite clear that there is nothing special, or desirable, about getting to sit near the King’s exotic pet, beyond being able to say they have done so: this is a society driven by ideas of status and pretending to be respectable and secure.   

The ending reflects the deep rooted problems of Ba Sing Se that have been explored throughout the episode through the lack of resolution for the Gaang’s storyline. We’ve had cliffhangers before this season, most notably in “The Library” and “The Serpent’s Pass”, but those give the episodes a defined sense of dramatic conclusion, whereas this episode just fades out to the following menacing speech from Long Feng:

“Enough, I don't want to hear your ridiculous plan. It is the strict policy of Ba Sing Se that the War not be mentioned within the walls. Constant news of an escalating war will throw the citizens of Ba Sing Se into a state of panic. Our economy would be ruined. Our peaceful way of life, our traditions would disappear. In silencing talk of conflict, Ba Sing Se remains a peaceful, orderly utopia. The last one on Earth.”

It is a speech that finally lays bare the true nature of Ba Sing Se: the city is a false utopia, a seemingly safe refuge that is actually a police state, run by officials who are not allies to the Gaang but instead actively obstruct their attempt to move the plot forwards and fight the Fire Nation. Long Feng’s speech plays out over the footage of Jet being brainwashed, which is technically a cliffhanger, but more in a conceptual sense than those mentioned from “The Library” and “The Serpent’s Pass”. In those episodes, the cliffhanger comes in the form of a direct threat that needs to be dealt with, whereas here, the cliffhanger comes in the form of a question, as the audience is left to ponder the depth of the Dai Li’s conspiracy, and what can be done to unravel it. The lack of any real resolution reflects, arguably more strongly than any other episode, the heavily serialised nature of Book Two. However, “City of Walls and Secrets” uses the unresolved ending in a way that really ties the strands of this episode together to make a very thematically coherent and consistent piece of television: it is an episode that uses its serialised structure to lay bare just why this particular city needs more attention than any previous location in the show. There any many problems in this city that will take time to solved, if indeed they can be solved at all.

End of Part Thirty Two.

From the South Pole Iceberg to the Republic City Portal: Part Twenty Seven

ATLA Book Two: Earth

Chapter Nine: Bitter Work

In Which Momo tries to catch a frog, Sokka makes a new friend, and Aang meditates passive-aggressively.

“Bitter work” is structured in the Gaang A plot/ Zuko B plot style, marking a return to the traditional Book Two episode type after three episodes that deliberately eschew that structure. “The Blind Bandit” focuses solely on the Gaang, “Zuko Alone does the same for Zuko, and “The Chase” brings both groups together for the first time in the season. And for the first time since “The Storm”, the episode really explores many character parallels and contrasts in depth, making use of the parallel plot structure. After the intense action of “The Chase”, we get an episode that is low on incident, and heavy on thematic exploration and dialogue. The show slows the pace of the episode right down to really get a feel for the struggles of Aang and Zuko. Having mentioned “The Chase”, it is worth expanding on my claim that that episode functions as the centre point of the show, the part where the first half is wrapped up and we start to move towards the endgame. All the episodes from “The Chase” to “The Drill”, the last episode before the Ba Sing Se arc gets moving, function in the same way. In “The Swamp”, Iroh sang the words “It’s a long long way to Ba Sing Se”, and that journey to the Earth Kingdom capital makes up the middle act of Book Two, and the centre point of the show.

But before we get into the centre of the episode, it is important to talk about two big Iroh scenes at the beginning of the episode, both of which are crucial to our understanding of his character. The first is Iroh’s dream of Lu Ten’s childhood and death, the scene that kicks off his and Zuko’s B plot (and I’m only calling it a B plot for the sake of convenience, for the first time this season, it holds just as much narrative weight as the Gaang’s “A Plot”). These memories are particularly crucial to Iroh’s characterisation, as they give us a rare glimpse of his inner world. Iroh’s grief for his son is in his subconscious after his near death experience, acting as a reminder of the way this grief is constantly bubbling just beneath the surface of his character. We also get our first glimpse of Lu Ten’s Grave, which will reappear later in “The Tales of Ba Sing Se”.

From the beautiful and moving material Iroh is giving, to the slightly more troubling, in the form of Iroh’s claim that Azula is “crazy, and she needs to go down”. It could be argued that Iroh realises there is nothing he can do for Azula, who was not cast out of the Fire Nation like Zuko, so remains under the toxic influence of Ozai. As a result, there is, again arguably, nothing Iroh can do for her and so he seemingly decides all he can do is help Zuko stop her causing more harm, and I imagine this is what Bryke were going for. But it is still a problematic line, with Iroh simplifying Azula as terrifyingly “crazy”, a judgement that is particularly troubling in the light of Azula’s eventual mental breakdown. Furthermore, it is another example of the hypocritical double standard Iroh shows in his attitude towards Azula compared to his guiding of Zuko on his road to redemption. And the real problem lies in the fact that the show doesn’t acknowledge this as a character flaw: as lokgifsandmusings puts it: “Bryke didn’t realise they created a problematic fave, not a cinnamon roll”. The moment is meant to be comedic, a surprise breakaway from Iroh’s expected position of advising reconciliation, but it is instead a moment where Iroh treats Azula, who is just as affected by Ozai’s abusive influence as Zuko, as unworthy of redemption. Iroh’s double standard towards Azula could work if it was acknowledged as a character flaw, but it is not, so is instead just a flaw in his characterisation.

Moving to the heart of the episode, it is worth focussing on the character parallels. But instead of focussing on the parallels between Aang and Zuko that is the driving force of this episode, it first useful to focus on the Parallels between their teachers. The first of these comes in the continuation of the Iroh and Katara Parallels. When Aang is upset about his struggles, Katara takes Aang away from Earthbending to focus on waterbending, which he is good at, in order to rebuild his confidence, and uses the practise as a quiet moment to give him some advice and listen to his problems, while taking time to praise the growth in his waterbending. Iroh helps Zuko in a similar way, distracting him from his failure to learn lightning bending by showing him a new, unique skill that Zuko gets to feel better about himself for knowing, and will be just as useful as lightning bending would have been. Redirecting lightning is arguably more useful than creating it for someone as impulsive as Zuko: it is a defensive skill, used for protection and preservation, not something to attack and harm others.

The episode also draws some fascinating contrasts between Katara and Toph. These contrasts lead to character development for Toph, as she learns how to be a teacher, and also develops her relationship with Katara, with Katara helping her by showing Toph how to teach Aang. It is nice to see a positive relationship quickly established between the two female regulars, particularly as their first episode together focussed on the conflict between their characters, even if that conflict led to them starting to respect one another. In a useful subversion of the toxic “All women are catty” trope, Toph quickly takes Katara’s advice: in the initial training montage, she is tough but actually encouraging to Aang when he does well. However, Toph only truly embraces Katara’s “positive reinforcement” as a teaching style at the end of the episode, and when she does so, she does it in her own way, framing her praise of Aang as a way of bigging up her own status of being more terrifying than a ferocious beast. She changes by reshaping her teaching style rather than abandoning it altogether.

As well developing Katara’s relationship with Toph, the episode sees a further shift in Katara’s relationship with Aang. He learns to treat Katara as his teacher as well as his peer, something her hasn’t fully done yet because he has a mental adjustment to make. Katara was his friend and peer before she was his teacher. In fact, Aang was slightly ahead of her as a waterbender for much of Book One due to his natural talent, and was the person who could help her learn by being the means by which she found a teacher. This is different to Toph, who Katara notices he immediately calls “Sifu”: Aang met Toph and she joined the group as his teacher, with that always being the role he expected her to perform. However, after the advice Katara gives him, Aang takes a moment to appreciate what she’s done for him, and, by way of thanks, duly acknowledges her role as his teacher.

But as I said earlier, the driving force of the episode lies in the parallels between Aang and Zuko, with the episode really focussing on their struggle to grow in their hero’s journeys, and the titular bitter work they go through to learn those skills. Both boys struggle with the new skills they seek to learn: Aang with Earthbending, and Zuko with Lightningbending. Aang’s struggle partly invokes the idea of elemental opposition of Air and Earth, but the episode also makes it clear the issue is more to do with Aang’s personality not being suited to Earth. He is not confrontational, so struggles with this element, which requires him to face his problems head on. Aang’s problems here set up Korra’s struggle with airbending in Book One of “Legend of Korra”, as air is not the opposite of her native element, but the skills required for airbending are the opposite of her personality. Aang’s struggles also contrast to Iroh, who invents redirection of lightning by studying waterbenders, masters of the opposite bending Art to the one he knows, further proof that the binaries set up between different elements are far more nuanced than they first appear. Zuko’s struggle with Lightning bending both parallels and contrasts with Aang’s struggle to Earth bend. Zuko’s struggles are a product of his mental anguish cannot be cool and calm like Azula, or reach a state of inner peace like Iroh, so he is unable to lightning bend, a contrast to Aang, who is ultimately able to overcome his earthbending block.

The subtle differences in their struggles mean Aang and Zuko find different solutions to their difficulties learning. Where Aang learns to confront Toph instead of avoiding his struggles with his lesson, he is able to summon the resources to Earthbend. By contrast, the deep rooted nature of Zuko’s trauma means he is unable to lightning bend, so he instead learns an alternative skill to combat Azula’s lightning bending. The new skills both boys learn are vital to the culmination of their character arcs. Aang uses the seismic sense that stems from his Earthbending lessons to stop Ozai, while Zuko uses redirection of lightning to save Katara from Azula. The ultimate importance of the lessons learned in these episodes increase the sense that this episode is part of the still point in the middle of the show, laying the big structural ground for the finale.

But the key part of the episode comes in the adjacent scenes in the middle. In the first scene, Katara and Aang discuss the opposition of Air and Earth, a scene which is followed by Iroh and Zuko’s discussion of the four nations, their culture and nature.

Firstly, let’s look at Katara and Aang’s discussion about the opposition of Air and Earth:

“Katara: You know this block you're having is only temporary, right?

Aang: I don't want to talk about it.

Katara: You do realize that's the problem, don't you? If you face this issue instead of avoiding it–

Aang: I know, I know, I know, I know! I get it, all right? I need to face it head on like a rock, but I just can't do it. I don't know why I can't, but I can't.

Katara:                 Aang, if fire and water are opposites, then what's the opposite of air?

Aang: I guess it's earth.

Katara: That's why it's so difficult for you to get this. You're working with your natural opposite. But you'll figure it out. I know you will.”

 Aang’s mental block is rooted in his need to better understand the elements, to get a grasp on what makes Earth and Air opposites. Earth grounded in the material aspects of the world, the concrete, whereas air represents freedom, detachment from worldly concerns. And while Aang is supposed to be neutral to all the nations, he is the last airbender, so he is uniquely attached to the culture and attitudes of the Air Nation, which he fights to maintain. As a result, he is so woven into the culture of his home nation by grief and loss, it is particularly hard for him to understand Earth Nation culture and fighting styles.

As for Iroh’s four nations lecture, it’s best to use the quote itself, because it is beautiful:

Iroh: Fire is the element of power. The people of the Fire Nation have desire and will, and the energy to drive and achieve what they want. Earth is the element of substance. The people of the Earth Kingdom are diverse and strong. They are persistent and enduring. Air is the element of freedom. The Air Nomads detached themselves from worldly concerns and found peace and freedom. Also, they apparently had pretty good senses of humour! Water is the element of change. The people of the Water Tribe are capable of adapting to many things. They have a deep sense of community and love that holds them together through anything.

Zuko: Why are you telling me these things?

Iroh: It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Understanding others, the other elements, and the other nations will help you become whole.

The speech sees a return to Book Two’s “Everything is connected” theme, with Iroh showing how the separation of the nations is linked to rigidity and corruption. Separation is described as something limiting on a global and personal scale: Aang needs to master all four elements, and he and Zuko need to understand all four nations so that they can make themselves whole, and in doing so, come together to help rebuild the world.

The final scenes show a contrast between the mental states, and positions in their journeys, of Aang and Zuko. Aang reaches an emotional high point, overcoming a particularly difficult obstacle in his hero’s journey to learn a vital skill. By contrast, we see Zuko still unable to overcome his grief, guilt, and self-hatred. For all that I described redirecting lightning as defensive, Zuko wants to use it to throw destruction and rage back at the world: he is still ultimately driven by his inner turmoil.

End of Part Twenty Seven.