A few more things. I discussed responsibility within Aang’s arc instead of ‘selfishness,’ but not why the conclusion we see works so well. For many people who call this a cop-out, the tension doesn’t seem to point to Aang sparing the fire lord. Yet, what kind of message would it send about a victim of genocide, who must himself kill his own people’s culture, in this story? It would be a kind of tragic sacrifice, selfless to the end, a morality doomed to cause pain.
The ugly truth that ATLA and Aang’s arc reveal to us, though, and as I’ve already said above, is that even Aang’s friends don’t seem to understand or, at times, care about his grief. They’ve already forgotten his people.
The way morality is presented in this show is done very well, and the way it should work is clear, however; different ends are right for different people. Katara and Zuko declare that forgiveness is not right for them, while it is very important to Aang. Yet, his friends also make it clear that their opinion on forgiveness is that it’s as good as literally doing nothing. But- is it? Aang is entirely right when he says, ‘Doing nothing is easy. Forgiveness is hard.’ Many people tend to misunderstand forgiveness in general, even saying the action itself is actually to forget.
So, if it’s not nothing, then what is so hard about forgiveness in this battle? The answer, simply, is that Aang has to find another way to stop the fire lord. And who’s better up to that task than an airbender?
It’s easy to call a cop-out if you’re not paying attention. Beat for beat, Aang’s solution isn’t nearly as full to the brim with tension nor as cathartic as facing a murderer or an abusive parent, but it feels- so much like the world of ATLA. Especially Aang’s side. Mysterious, spiritual, like universal wisdom is hidden under every rock or leaf. Aang has an undeniable destiny, in two parts. One was chosen for him, with the title of Avatar. A second, he has chosen to take up, despite great opposition: the sole protector of his people’s culture. He went searching for his solution, and it came to him in a way answers have come to him before in the series, through pretty mystical means. It’s not that hard to follow–it’s a form of bending only the avatar can do, lost to time. Simple, but hard rules, with stakes that provide tension later on.
Besides. Energybending is a potent, in-universe analogy for a power forgotten by the world, analogue to the forgotten wisdom and importance of the air nomads. Both of which are equally viable options to winning the final battle as using brute strength is.
I find it so… frustrating that at times that, despite all their support, even Aang’s friends doubt that he can complete his destiny. What they’ve seen him put substantial work into. I know for a fact it’s not about his age, because Zuko says, “I don’t know if Aang’s got the guts to take out my father.” They’re all teenagers, but Zuko would do it. He’s specifically doubting the inherent importance of the air nomads’ philosophy that Aang identifies with. They doubt anything but the brutality and power - a trait known to symbolize the element of fire and the spiritual opposite of air - of the avatar state could ever possibly triumph.
They are blind to their imbalance, and it forces Aang into an even deeper conflict. It is really him against everyone. It even pits the audience against his conclusion, evidently.
The fire lord says, “You have all the power in the world. But you are still weak.” Like the only things that exist are power and weakness. The whole point is, Aang’s two destinies require him to go above and beyond what everyone thinks is possible, even if it seems like it does ‘nothing.’ When in fact, it’s just greater than what the world could have thought of.
Who better to find another way than an airbender? Who better than an earthbender to stand their ground when they do? Aang has mastered himself.
…and people love crying deus ex machina, honestly. Aang is literally a god in his world already. It is what he chose to do with that power which makes it mean anything at all.
