12.24
"Why do I have to be straight?"
“I guess, I see a lot of myself in you.” – Korra
So let’s start with that quote. On the plus side, it’s refreshing for the Avatar to actually talk someone down from violence instead of beat them up until they accept peace. In a sense, it resolves the Dark Korra arc that’s been haunting the season by showing Korra concoct an alternate solution to what her shadow’s been stopping her from doing. People complained that this was going on for longer than the plot needed, and I don’t disagree, but this final moment gives meaning to all those times Korra became a wreck after seeing her mirror image. Instead of being a threat, it’s a warning to not give in to berserk tendencies. That illusion guides her away from being the Korra who almost butchers a judge to get her father back and into a Korra who can solve problems through mindfulness. I guess you could suggest that the Dark Korra is what Korra has to ward her off against vices now that the previous Avatars aren’t there for her.
This has been something that Korra’s needed for the entire series: A sense of self. Aang only had his predecessor Roku’s help because wartime was in the background, and he was a boy without any other mentors. Though he was given little direct guidance, this forced him to set his own responsibilities without the Air Nomads to nurture his thought process. Meanwhile, Korra has three or four people at a time trying to teach her. Tenzin says this. Suyin says that. Even her villain from last season is mentoring her on what to do. While Aang had the clarity to think without being talked down to, Korra’s behavior was clouded by the actions and thoughts of others. The chimera of hers was the mind’s way of playing a game for Korra to solve, and to solve that would help her define who she was without the need of Tenzin, or Lin, or Toph, or even Zaheer.
On the other hand, that attempt to sympathize with Kuvira comes with unrealized tethers. Yeah, Korra can go on about how Kuvira and her share tons of personality traits like being headstrong, but the fact remains one of them has thrown people into internment camps and the other hasn’t. I know it’s Korra trying to look into how they have similar spirits, but that’s been overshadowed by the actions each woman has taken throughout the season. And she wasn’t kept in the dark about what Kuvira did. She knew quite well about the forced labor and mistreatment done to the average Earth Kingdom citizen. I suppose this has the unintended side effect of giving Korra a tyrant complex. Maybe a deleted line in the script was “It’s okay. I wish I could throw people in re-education camps too.”
Although to be charitable, I could see it as akin to the relationship between Gandhi and Hitler. They were friends, or at the very least pen pals, who didn’t let a few war atrocities get in the way of understanding one another. And despite documented letters written by Gandhi, people to this day are incredulous to the idea that those two could have been friends at some point. This could be seen as the proof the writers used to showcase that actions weren’t what completely defined the average man, and that kinships could be seen from even the most unlikely duos. But of course, the letters Gandhi wrote to Hitler were in 1939, and given what history has shown, it seems that friendship didn’t translate amount to any concrete peace.
Though I should stop using Godwin’s Law when referring to Kuvira, since she’s finally shown something to her character beyond despotism in the show’s final moments. The writers reveal to be an orphaned girl who just wanted to make her country proud, and wanted above all else to make the Earth Kingdom a nation that people would be happy to bow to. It was just that her idea of happiness would be more at home with Huxley. Yeah, she had already gone too far into the depth of outlandish supervillainy when this was pulled off, so it was too late to complement her character far more than it should have. But at this point, I could take it or leave it.
And since she now has a character to discuss, let’s dissect it. Behind all of those intimidation tactics was someone who feared being rejected, who wanted to be recognized with any thought of being abandoned buried in the past. That somewhat justifies why she built a giant robot as her endgame. It was her way of showing to the world that she existed, and that she was more than someone who would be thrown away the moment she was of no use to others. While she gets points for effort there, such an attempt to prove to everyone that she was above dismissal blinded her from the people who valued her as more than a tool. Possibly, Suyin and Junior’s affection for her just couldn’t cut it as replacements for the love she wanted from her parents. She wanted to have true vengeance for her childhood, and those who weren’t with her in that quest were immediately her enemies.
She’s like Demona in that regard, fearing being alone but unable to differentiate sympathy with potential betrayal. Instead of dealing with inner demons personally, she points fingers at other people or even other ethnicities as the real threat to her well-being. Exiling the Earth Kingdom’s migrants was probably like Demona’s attempt to eradicate the humans. They were both easy scapegoats to paint all of their fears onto, and doing otherwise would make them realize their own flaws. And they can’t have that. Admitting that they’re their own worst enemy would be seen as the one defeat they couldn’t possibly acknowledge, preferring death to knowing that hell is what they’ve cared for themselves.
But her excuse as a troubled orphan doesn’t hold up as well when compared to the other characters that have lost parents. Mako and Bolin are orphans, and neither of them has expressed a desire to rule countries with an iron fist. Asami has no parents anymore, and she’s probably one of the nicest characters in the show. What makes Kuvira more prone to hatred if these people experienced the same thing as her and didn’t fall from grace? It could be that her parents personally abandoned her instead of simply dying, but you can say that about Hiroshi from Book 1. And unlike the first example, Kuvira had a maternal figure after being orphaned. She had people that she could call a family. If that wasn’t enough, that just makes her seem more spoiled than pitiable.
Though that logic in trying to have a message that gets contradicted by the plot is common in this two-parter. You have Prince Wu abdicating from the throne because he thinks that the Earth Kingdom doesn’t need outdated concepts like kings or queens to govern itself. And while his pro-democracy stance can be admired, one of the reasons Kuvira came into power was because she was popular with the masses. Some of her followers even wore T-shirts with her face. If the people were allowed to vote for their ruler at that point in time, they would’ve easily seen the crazed dictator as the opportune choice. If the people who can be sworn into political power are people like Kuvira, or even people like Raiko, what does that say for democracy? The people voted into power are just as bad as the people born into power. Monarchies may be outdated, but Wu surely proved to be worth his authority here. Surely he could have stayed as leader for a while until they could find someone who wasn’t a control freak to govern the nation.
If it’s what Wu wanted, I guess that aligns with how characters like him and Korra have to choose their own destiny instead of one set by their forebears. Though if that were the case, wouldn’t Kuvira fit under that idea for straying from what the Beifongs wanted in favor of her own desires? Or was that desire still rooted into her lineage than out of true choice? That could be what Bryke are trying to do here, pondering if free will should go against the wills of the precursors. Like you could say that villains like Azula and Long Feng were grounded in the desires of their countries, but so was Aang regarding the fallen Air Temples. Besides outward actions or violence, how can one’s connection to their legacy define their moral alignment?
But enough with philosophical conundrums and onto that Korrasami thing the fans are all gushing about. I’m appreciative that the writers managed to finally write a romance that didn’t devour half of the season’s runtime like previous relationships did. Maybe that suggests emotional coldness on my part, but I prefer romantic plots as less of a scene-stealer and more of a seasoning for everything else. They need personality behind the love to make it work. Otherwise, it’s just two stick figures making out with each other. That’s why nobody liked Makorra because Mako had no personality besides being a douche. And while Asami seemingly had just as little of a character, they also played the Korrasami relationship for longer compared to how Mako kissed Korra at the end of Book 1.
And as for the lack of a kiss, I’m saddened about that. I know that Nickelodeon would have had a fit, but come on. Don’t let your first gay kiss be on some Dan Schneider show instead. But of course, ten years from now, people will champion Nickelodeon for making Korrasami happen instead of the show’s staff. I know that in 2024, some guy is going to write an article about how brave Nickelodeon was for having a gay relationship in their shows, forgetting the treatment the last two books got from the channel, but they won’t be able to name a single one of the show’s creators. It’s like how people praise Star Trek for having an interracial kiss, when the producers tried everything they could to stop it in the first place. History doesn’t reward the progressives, but the people who just happened to be nearby.
It’s even happening amongst the Korra fandom, with some acting like this is the first of its kind to happen in history. Even outside of the fandom, you’ll find articles on Vanity Fair about how Korra’s groundbreaking as an animated drama. But it’s more of a culmination of what previous shows did than something innovative in it’s own right. We have to recognize the stepping-stones that were set so Legend of Korra could have its cake and eat it. We need to remember Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy’s fling in BTAS, or Velma’s relationship with Hot Dog Water in Mystery Inc, or even John Waters’ guest appearance on The Simpsons. If you’re going to see Korrasami as some sort of moral victory, learn the factors that made both creators and fans alike warm up to using LGBT characters in cartoons rather than acting hostile to them.
Or you can be like me and laugh at how Mako’s the only one of the main cast to remain single.
And that concludes Avatar: The Legend of Korra. Some people are saying that this will be the end of the metaseries, but I’m not buying it. Before Legend of Korra was announced, people thought that The Last Airbender movie would spell the death of the franchise as we knew it. Sequels are unpredictable, and no final word can ever be trusted regarding fiction. Even if it won’t happen in the near future, or on the same network, or even have the same creators, there will probably be a new Avatar series. I know that people from other fandoms say that for their fallen shows to no avail, but I feel safe in thinking that some kids in the future will reblog GIFs of an Earthbender five or so years from now. These Avatar fans are too stubborn to have it any other way.