Avatar Aang, Feminist Icon?

“Who’s your favorite character?” I hear that question come up a lot over Avatar: The Last Airbender, a show particularly near and dear to me. Iroh and Toph get tossed around a lot. Zuko is very popular. Sokka has his fans. But something I’ve noticed? Aang very rarely gets the pick. When he comes up, it’s usually in that “Oh, and also…” kind of way. Which is strange, I think, considering he’s the main character, the titular airbender, of the entire show.

I never really thought much about it until a couple weeks ago when I finished my annual re-watch of the series and found myself, for the first time, specifically focused on Aang’s arc. Somehow, I never really paid that much attention to him before. I mean sure, he’s front and center in most episodes, fighting or practicing or learning big spiritual secrets, and yet, he always feels a little overshadowed. Katara takes care of the group. Sokka makes the plans. Zuko has the big, heroic Joseph Campbell journey. Aang…goofs around. He listens and follows and plays with Momo. And yes, at the end his story gets bigger and louder, but even then I feel like a lot of it dodges the spotlight. And here’s why:

Avatar casts the least traditionally-masculine hero you could possibly write as the star of a fantasy war story. Because of that, we don’t see Aang naturally for everything he is, so we look elsewhere.

To show what I mean, I want to talk about some of the show’s other characters, and I want to start with Zuko. Zuko is the hero we’re looking for. He’s tall and hot and complicated. He perseveres in the face of constant setbacks. He uses two swords and shoots fire out of his hands. He trains with a wise old man on ship decks and mountaintops. Occasionally he yells at the sky. He’s got the whole 180-degree moral turn beat for beat, right down to the scars and the sins-of-the-father confrontation scene. And if you were going into battle, some epic affair with battalions of armor-clad infantry, Zuko is the man you’d want leading the charge, Aragorn style. We love Zuko. Because Zuko does what he’s supposed to do.

Now let’s look at Katara. Katara doesn’t do what she’s supposed to do. She doesn’t care about your traditionally gender dynamics because she’s too busy fighting pirates and firebenders, planning military operations with the highest ranking generals in the Earth Kingdom, and dismantling the entire patriarchal structure of the Northern Water Tribe. Somewhere in her spare time she also manages to become one of the greatest waterbenders in the world, train the Avatar, defeat the princess of the Fire Nation in the middle of Sozin’s Comet and take care of the entire rest of the cast for an entire year living in tents and caves. Katara is a badass, and we love that.

So what about Aang? When we meet Aang, he is twelve years old. He is small and his voice hasn’t changed yet. His hobbies include dancing, baking and braiding necklaces with pink flowers. He loves animals. He doesn’t eat meat. He despises violence and spends nine tenths of every fight ducking and dodging. His only “weapon” is a blunt staff, used more for recreation than combat. Through the show, Aang receives most of his training from two young women – Katara and Toph – whom he gives absolute respect, even to the point of reverence. When he questions their instruction, it comes from a place of discomfort or anxiety, never superiority. He defers to women, young women, in matters of strategy and combat. Then he makes a joke at his own expense and goes off to feed his pet lemur.

Now there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this, and it’s the one that shielded Aang from the heroic limelight in my eyes for ten years. The reasoning goes like this: Aang is a child. He has no presumptuous authority complex, no masculinity anxiety, no self-consciousness about his preferred pastimes, because he’s twelve. He’s still the hero, but he’s the prepubescent hero, the hero who can’t lead the charge himself because he’s just not old enough. The problem is, that reasoning just doesn’t hold up when you look at him in the context of the rest of the show.

Let’s look at Azula. Aside from the Avatar himself, Zuko’s sister is arguably the strongest bender in the entire show. We could debate Toph and Ozai all day, but when you look at all Azula does, the evidence is pretty damning. Let’s make a list, shall we?

Azula completely mastered lightning, the highest level firebending technique, in her spare time on a boat, under the instruction of two old women who can’t even bend.

Azula led the drill assault on Ba Sing Sae, one of the most important Fire Nation operations of the entire war, and almost succeeded in conquering the whole Earth Kingdom.

Azula then bested the Kyoshi Warriors, one of the strongest non-bender fighting groups in the entire world, successfully infiltrated the Earth Kingdom in disguise, befriended its monarch, learned of the enemy’s most secret operation, emotionally manipulated her older brother, overthrew the captain of the secret police and did conquer the Earth Kingdom, something three Fire Lords, numerous technological monstrosities, and countless generals, including her uncle, failed to do in a century.

And she did this all when she was fourteen.

That last part is easy to forget. Azula seems so much her brother’s peer, we forget she’s the same age as Katara. And that means that when we first meet Azula, she’s only a year older than Aang is at the end of the series. So to dismiss Aang’s autonomy, maturity or capability because of his age is ridiculous, understanding that he and Azula could have been in the same preschool class.

We must then accept Aang for what he truly is: the hero of the story, the leader of the charge, who repeatedly displays restraint and meekness, not because of his age, not because of his upbringing, not because of some character flaw, but because he chooses too. We clamor for strong female characters, and for excellent reason. But nobody every calls for more weak male characters. Not weak in a negative sense, but weak in a sense that he listens when heroes talk. He negotiates when heroes fight. And when heroes are sharpening their blades, planning their strategies and stringing along their hetero love interests, Aang is making jewelry, feeding Appa, and wearing that flower crown he got from a travelling band of hippies. If all Aang’s hobbies and habits were transposed onto Toph or Katara, we’d see it as a weakening of their characters. But with Aang it’s cute, because he’s a child. Only it isn’t, because he’s not.

Even in his relationship with Katara, a landmark piece of any traditional protagonist’s identity, Aang defies expectations. From the moment he wakes up in episode one, he is infatuated with the young woman who would become his oldest teacher and closest friend. Throughout season one we see many examples of his puppy love expressing itself, usually to no avail. But there’s one episode in particular that I always thought a little odd, and that’s Jet.

In Jet, Katara has an infatuation of her own. The titular vigilante outlaw sweeps her off her feet, literally, with his stunning hair, his masterful swordsmanship and his apparent selflessness. You’d think this would elicit some kind of jealousy from Aang. There’s no way he’s ignorant of what’s happening, as Sokka sarcastically refers to Jet as Katara’s boyfriend directly in Aang’s presence, and she doesn’t even dispute it. But even then, we never see any kind of rivalry manifest in Aang. Rather, he seems in full support of it. He repeatedly praises Jet, impressed by his leadership and carefree attitude. Despite his overwhelming affection for Katara, he evaluates both her and Jet on their own merits as people. There is no sense of ownership or macho competition.

Contrast this with Zuko’s reaction to a similar scenario in season three’s The Beach. Zuko goes to a party with his girlfriend, and at that party he sees her talking to another guy. His reaction? Throwing the challenger into the wall, shattering a vase, yelling at Mai, and storming out. This may seem a little extreme, but it’s also what we’d expect to an extent. Zuko is being challenged. He feels threatened in his station as a man, and he responds physically, asserting his strength and dominance as best he can.

I could go on and on. I could talk about how the first time Aang trains with a dedicated waterbending master, he tries to quit because of sexist double standards, only changing his mind after Katara’s urging. I could talk about how Aang is cast as a woman in the Fire Nation’s propaganda theatre piece bashing him and his friends. Because in a patriarchal society, the worst thing a man can be is feminine. I could talk about the only times Aang causes any kind of real destruction in the Avatar state, it’s not even him, since he doesn’t gain control of the skill until the show’s closing moments. Every time he is powerless in his own power and guilt-ridden right after, until the very end when he finally gains control, and what does he do with all that potential? He raises the rivers, and puts the fires out.

Aang isn’t what he’s supposed to be. He rejects every masculine expectation placed on his role, and in doing so he dodges center stage of his own show. It’s shocking to think about how many times I just forgot about Aang. Even at the end, when his voice has dropped and his abs have filled in, we miss it. Zuko’s coronation comes and we cheer with the crowd, psyched to see our hero crowned. Then the Fire Lord shakes his head, gestures behind him and declares “the real hero is the Avatar.” It’s like he’s talking to us. “Don’t you get it?” he asks. “Did you miss it? This is his story. But you forgot that. Because he was small. And silly. And he hated fighting. And he loved to dance. Look at him,” Zuko seems to say. “He’s your hero. Avatar Aang, defier of gender norms, champion of self-identity, feminist icon.”


Some of the photos from Mark Hamill’s big day as he received his star on the Hollywood walk of fame.

He’s known as the Joker, Fire Lord Ozai, and most of all, our dear Luke Skywalker.

Thanks, Mark, for all the great work you’ve given us.

More photos as well as these can be found on the Star Wars official Facebook page.

Azula : Avatar Last Airbender

I think Azula is one of the most enigmatic, fascinating and fantastically well written characters that has ever  graced our screens. 

I also think she is rather misunderstood by people that just write her off as “the crazy Fire Princess”

Whilst she is being painted as the villain, we get the slow burn of why she is that way. 

From a young age she was a Fire Prodigy which caught the eye of her Father. Who began grooming her for war and Royal duties, 

 Azula showed cruelty as a child and acted out to gain her mothers attention as it was the in which way she gained attention from her Father so in her head, why wouldn’t the same work for Mother.. She also did not know that her Mother wished her goodbye, as she was asleep and so grew up believing Ursa didn’t care. cementing the feeling that Ursa favored Zuko over her. 

Her Father manipulated, physically punished any who defied him, or for any infraction. Anything less than perfect was not tolerated. Azula would have witnessed this as he berated Zuko for his apparent lack of skill, pushing herself to strive for perfection. 

It seemed Azula received little, if no loving , nurturing affection at all

Failure, again something Ozai would not tolerate. Azula spent her whole life expected to accept the responsibilities of an Adult. andd be exceptional in every way The only way she could gain any sort of attention (not affection) from Ozai was through success. 

He sent Azula to Ba Sing Se genuinely not expecting her to succeed where others had failed.. Remember, Ozai never took on a fight he would personally lose and also set Zuko the impossible task of finding the Avatar.. He constantly gas lit his daughtter

Yet time and again, she delivered. She was a genius military strategist, yes manipulative and sometimes cruel, keeping in mind she was raised to believe that she was better than anyone else, and had accomplished things due to her sheer brilliance  which would only bolster that ego, She played games of wits with those around her because she was genuinely bored and more than likely the most intelligent person in the room. 

She threatened punishment, she never killed unless in the heat of battle. She figured out a way to take over Ba Sing Se with relatively little bloodshed

We must also remember , she was 14! 

If we think back, she had no one to socialize   with as a child. until she attended the Fire Academy for Girls meeting Mai and Ty Lee . At Ember Island we see how painfully socially awkward she is at the party, completely out of her depth as she has no idea how to interact with people her own age or without using her position as Fire Princess to bully them into submission, hence sparking the jealousy towards Ty Lee. 

A reaction of a teenager that has had the epiphany that nobody likes her, for her, something she has always suspected and a whole litany of insecurities, inadequacies , she lashes out, and surprisingly apologies. 

Namely because it’s Ty Lee! (who seems to be the only person who genuinely gives a crap about her) 

We also see Azula’s compassion towards Ty Lee, 

Which brings us to the Boiling Rock and where things really begin to unravel. Azula stops a torture routine, understanding intimidation works better. 

Mai makes the choice to save Zuko. but it’s Ty Lee that does the interesting thing. 

(Some people tthink she chooses Mai over Azula, I think she chooses Azula over Azula) 

Ty Lee stops Azula doing something not a single one of them would ever come back from. If Azula had gone through with it, she would have become the Monster she already thought she was.. 

Ty Lee saves Azula from Azula by stopping her doing something she would later regret. Again Azula shows compassion by having them imprisoned rather than executed.

Now back tot the betrayal, what Ozai would see as bad judgement on his daughter’s part. He once more brushes her off and shuts her out of meetings and his plans, she is no longer his confidant, to someone her craves her Fathers approval, she feels as if she is being cast aside, adding that to the betrayal of her friend who made her feel powerless by chi blocking her, this is devastating.

She has no one! She has no Uncle Iroh! She is surrounded by sycophants and neophytes.

She has no friends, no one she can trust or rely on, she has never been on the receiving end of any sort of love (that she can see, ) She will never forgive someone stopping her from doing the unforgivable. 

. She is a a paranoid teenage girl, with abandonment issues, trust issues, a perfectionist, child soldier, with no support system, who has had her last vestiges of trust annihilated, she is lonely, and had it drummed into her to never show weakness in any shape or form. 

 Her whole world collapses around her in a matter of weeks. Everything her Father built her to be, his weapon of war, her purpose for being. Every breath leading to this mapped out destiny, means nothing as its gone. 

Leading to the heart wrenching, scene between her, Zuko and Katara. Azula’s mental break down was one of the hardest scenes to watch and you would have to be a cold stone bastard not to have that tug on your heart strings. 

This multi layered character, this poor child is not just having a tantrum. Its Pain, its loss, its fear of disappointing her father. Its her world being turned on its head. Its the humiliation of her defeat by a ‘dirty water peasant’ Its the howl of someone who finally cant do this anymore. 

Is really is one of the few villains on tv that you genuinely feel for!

She needs a huge hug!! 

(p.s I do think Ty Lee genuinely liked Azula and wasn’t half as dumb as she lets on, she was kinda afraid of Azula but knew she could turn her into a boneless fish any time she wanted. Was also hoping with the comics that Azula would eventually chill the hell out, maybe find herself a nice wife n find somethihng to do at court)


Ozai: I have a perfect daughter. She’s a firebending prodigy, and she has high abilities in war strategies and on the battlefield besides her unquestionable loyalty to me. She achieves anything I want her to accomplish even if I don’t ask her to. She was at the top of her class at her Academy. But if she disappointed me, there’d be consequences just like the other child who failed me.

Iroh: Here is my nephew, Zuko. I love him. He’s angry and cute.