#aang critical
Aang never asks her if she loves him.
Not once. Not in the forty-nine years they are married, the fifty-four years they spend together.
For everyone who sees them, they might think it’s because it’s already so obvious how she feels about him. It’s all but assumed. It’s what Aang tells himself, after their kids have grown… as he meets Katara’s supportive eyes and finds her smile somewhat lacking, replaced by some unfamiliar, distant… removed grin.
It’s nothing, he says, it’s all in his head.
She’s always been there for him, hasn’t she? Approaching him, affirming all of her time and energy to him, comforting him even at the slightest sign of loneliness?
In those early years, Aang would catch himself wondering if Katara is truly happy… being on his constant beck-and-call, far away from her homeland… raising their children alone in Air Temple Island while he travels with Tenzin. But it’s ridiculous to question anything, right? They never argue about not visiting her homeland; as she knows he cannot stomach most Southern WaterTribe cuisine, or look at dead animal skins for longer than a day. Most of their food is meat. Even the clothes they wear are furs.
Katara understands without even having to bring it up, how most WaterTribe customs cannot be properly practiced by an Airbender. And in the end… she chose him. She chose his culture over hers. She even chose to be with him over the countless opportunities to travel home, to help rebuild her homeland after the war. She was even agreeing to let Zuko’s self-imposed death sentence be carried out, for the sake of Aang’s principles— even after the prince almost took his own life for her. That sacrifice meant nothing.
And it was so beautiful… seeing now nothing else mattered to her, Aang says, not in the grand scheme of things.
Instead she was always there, paying tribute to his Airbending customs just like all the acolytes, because she knew how important these things were to him.
This has to be love, he says.
He remembers Katara even attempting to wear orange-and-yellow acolyte garb, on one occasion… and when she said it felt more like a costume than an outfit… she apologized. Returning to her usual blue, she apologized.
Because she felt like she had failed him in some way, and it was a beautiful moment… Aang holding the tears on his girlfriend’s cheek, reassuring her in his own way that he still loved her.
And their wedding was a traditional Airbending ceremony. The first one in over a century. Katara even reprimanded Sokka after he muttered something about wishing there were at least some seal jerky to honor the WaterTribe side of this marriage… and it was so beautiful, the way Katara defended Aang’s vegetarian diet, reciting the ancient Airbending ways.
Sokka had been way out of line, anyway. They wore the painted marks of the WaterTribe – the ones Bato had given them – so it wasn’t like Katara’s culture was completely written out of the ceremony, was it? Nobody forced her into having an Airbending ceremony. It was what she agreed on. They shared a plate of steamed tofu together. She liked it. She saidshe liked it.
So, why bother addressing her feelings? It’s all there, in her actions.
And it’s all …so beautiful.
There’s no amount of spiritual enlightenment that could measure just how much he loves this woman. Not seeing her for even the smallest moment makes him ache. He only sees her devoted blue eyes, and nothing else. That is enough.
Aang knows better than to invite that poisonous doubt anywhere near his own peace of mind.
This love is real, he says. It is. He doesn’t have to question anything.
Anyway, would he? He’s the Avatar. He knows Katara; he knows what’s good for her. And she knows… he knows that she knows that he would be a wreck without her. It’s a bind only true soulmates can understand.
Aang never asks Katara if she loves him.
Doubt cannot afford to live in such a pure, beautiful place like what they have. It is a poison; a pinch with bite; a drop of ink… tainting, dispersing in a pool of water.
He won’t acknowledge it, he won’t even imagine it.
Aang chooses to remain silent, all those years, refusing to mull over the myriadof ways he might react if he heard her respond with anything other than “Yes.”
On this April Fool’s…
Let’s acknowledge the fools who declare that Kataang “won” just because these characters married and had kids together.
…the fools who don’t bat an eye as they notice elderly Katara living a reclusive, quiet, practically purposeless existence in the South Pole…
…who don’t question Katara’s lack of contribution to the world (outside of being the Avatar’s wife, an on-call healer, and just-in-case-you-wondered-if she-ever-overcame-her-Bloodbending-trauma-oh-hmm-I-guess-not attempting to cease the practice of Bloodbending)…
…who turn a deaf ear to Katara and Aang’s said kids talking about how, as middle-aged adults, they stillfeel emotionally and culturally divided as a family.
Sure. In canon, Kataang won… but what did that win, exactly?
But seriously.
Imagine that small, barely-readable moment of disappointment that must’ve passed through Aang and Katara, when they realized that their firstborn child… born from a prodigious air -bending Avatar and the most powerful water-bender to exist in a century… was a non-bender.
Knowing Katara, she would’ve just breathed deeply and held that child even more tightly and lovingly, accepting the little boy as is.
But Aang?
Aang must’ve thought the Spirit World was taunting him. No doubt he would be devastated, thinking that bringing air-benders back into the world would be a lot trickier than he thought. That guilt he once felt about running away from his people would come crawling back under his skin, all over again.
Katara would comfort Aang, as she always does.
He would be adamant, saying that no, Bumi has to be an air-bender! He has to be. He just needs some time! Aang would double-down. He would make sure to give Bumi the same air-bending spirituality and influence to hopefully trigger the boy’s air-bending gift. As soon as Bumi were weaned, Aang would take him to visit all of the Air Temples for weeks at a time, and Katara would oblige, staying behind in Republic City to work diligently on behalf of the Avatar.
But there’s only so much time that Aang can be away, because Republic City needs him. So, Aang would build a fifth temple just off the coast of the city: Air Temple Island. It would be Aang and Katara’s permanent home base, bringing as much influence of air culture as he can… with air bison and air acolytes to give Bumi all of this immersion in his first few years of life.
Katara doesn’t protest any of these changes, despite not having much say in them; she doesn’t reject all of the young pretty female acolytes suddenly living in their home, spending time with their son, her husband… because Katara knows it’s for the best. She knows how desperate Aang is to have their son be an air-bender. She still gets to know Bumi regardless of his lack of bending, still finds herself laughing with him, teaching him things whenever the acolytes can give her some quality time with her son. In secret, Katara also tries to connect with Bumi with water-bending… wondering if, just maybe… but that, too, becomes a fruitless search.
But actually, no– she notices how Bumi loves the water anyway. She notices how he loves going out into the water near the island, his hands paddling the water-bent boogie board she makes for him. She wonders if it would be a good idea to visit the Southern Water Tribe regularly in the future, to see if Bumi can connect with that part of his identity… or perhaps visit the Fire Nation to immerse the boy with Fire Lord Zuko’s naval ships, to see if he might someday be a naval commander.
She brings this idea up to Aang, hopeful that he would like this idea, too. Aang smiles, but he lowers his head in the way that looks defeated, beaten.
Katara would comfort Aang, as she always does.
Five years pass, and Bumi has visited the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation multiple times. He has grown to enjoy the water, despite not being a water bender. No, he is still not showing any signs of air-bending. Aang is sad, but still tries to connect with this child. It doesn’t come easily, since he knows nothing else… since he was raised by air-benders, who laughedat the idea of gravity all the time.
Aang becomes more emotionally removed, feeling like a fraud parent in front of this child, and finds himself telling Katara how she’s always been great with kids, how she practically raised Sokka, another non-bender... hears himself making so many excuses to not be around Bumi.
Katara would comfort Aang, as she always does.
He spends most of his time alone, meditating, traveling to the Spirit World to find an explanation as to why. Why would the Spirits give him a non-air-bending child in the midst of an extinct air-nation? Months pass by, and no answer is found, and despite being among his air-bison and acolyte kin on Air Temple Island, Aang feels so empty. Hopeless. Alone.
Aang runs off to find solace in the other air temples and acolytes, focusing his energy on bringing back his culture with his most devoted followers, once again leaving Katara to speak on behalf of her husband whenever Republic City asks about Avatar Aang’s absence. She says he will return soon.
He doesn’t come back for a year.
His relationship with Bumi would suffer. His relationship with Katara would strain. Despite her emotional distance from Aang, and his neglect to their child, Katara remains devoted to the Avatar (and her husband, for better or worse) so she stays on Air Temple Island raising their son until his return.
It’s not until she writes to him in the temples: Don’t worry, Sweetie, we’ll make an air-bender sooner or later. Just come home, please… that Aang is finally compelled to return to Air Temple Island to try again for another kid. He has a good feeling about it, too, considering that this second child would be born and fully-immersed in Air Temple Island.
Imagine the surprise, then. How… in spite of all of that air culture… their second child is born to be a water-bender.
Katara is beside herself with joy, and Aang smiles, seeing this sweet little girl who shares her mother’s eyes… but he cannot hide his disappointment. Katara sees it, too, and she fights that bitter, stingingfeeling of guilt in her stomach as she gradually builds a connection with her own daughter.
Aang, you’re a water-bender too, remember? she encourages, and that little fact brings some light in Aang’s disappointed eyes, and he spends time with his daughter, building a connection through his natural water-bending skills.
But still… that is not enough, and Katara knows.
She sees it in the way Aang’s eyes aren’t fully present when he plays with his daughter, his son. As Katara looks at her husband looking at their children playing together, she can tell by his his defeated, weighed-down grin that truly… deep-down… he wishes they were something else.
When Aang packs up to travel again to the air temples, Katara doesn’t protest. When she learns how Aang has been refusing to even mentionBumi or Kya in the other temples, Katara reasons to herself that it must be because of that pain it causes him– that internal shame Aang carries with him as the Last Airbender who cannot bring more of them to the world.
That’s what Katara keeps telling herself, as she continues to raise Bumi and Kya on the island on her own for almost another year.
Thankfully, Aang returns to Air Temple Island, refreshed and fully new. There’s a sense ofhope in the air – now that the Spirits blessed him with a water-bending daughter – that an air-bending child might not be so far away.
And the third time becomes a charm.
When Tenzin is born, Katara is indeed happy, joyful… and also relieved, by the look she sees in Aang’s eyes, discovering that this child’s silver eyes match his. Katara is too preoccupied living this specific kind of joy vicariously through Aang… she forgets to be happy about justhaving this third child. Her child.
And when Aang refuses to let go of this child… refuses to give up Tenzin for his mother to hold him that day he’s born… Katara doesn’t protest.
She brushes off her tears as more happy ones than sad ones, because it’s all she can do to live with this man, now. This man who is also a kid, who is also the Avatar. Who’s already gotten so accustomed to the world bending to his every want and need, there is now no going back. Katara knows.
The world is, of course, rejoiced by the first air-bender born in over a century, and no sooner is Tenzin weaned that Aang takes him all over the world.
Katara remains with the other two children, keeping this emotional hole in the relationship to herself, but downright refusingto give Aang more children, no matter the eagerness he shows about wanting more air-benders. He talks about it publicly, unapologetically… in written and oral documents…. but whenever Aang tries to place a hand on her shoulder, her back… Katara now shrugs it away.
When Aang asks her if she’s okay, it’s in that concerned, wise voice of a monk who knows all. As if this were obviously something to do with her, never about him.
As usual, Katara says she’s fine, but her arms remain folded, her eyes lowered and distant, all but gone.
He never asks Katara if she still loves him; that would be ridiculous. That’s all but assumed; she did marry him, didn’t she? And they had three kids together.
She never asks Aang if he still loves her; that would be ridiculous. She already knows the answer. She’s always known.
No Avatar has ever broken their marriage… according to what Katara has read… and through the stories her Gran Gran always told her, she knows that a marriage is a sacredbond, held for better or worse, before the spirits of Tui and La. Katara looks at her husband, and then their children… still very young, still considered the Avatar’s kin… and she stays. She chooses to.
It’s what she tells herself, on particularly rough days– that she had a choice, and that she made it.
Aang stops trying to touch her, eventually, and when he takes Tenzin on long-term trips to the other air temples, Katara doesn’t protest. Whenever he returns to the island, of course she’s there to greet his arrival, but they now sleep in separate quarters.
When people ask Aang about the possibility of more air-benders after Tenzin, he replies that it’s Katara’s health that is now preventing them from trying for more children, and Katara confirms this with a smile… assuring that Tenzin will be kept safe and protected, with constant vigilance wherever he travels, before he one day has air-bender children of his own.
In public, Katara still smiles. In writing, Katara still praises the Avatar.
When Aang asks her to write a letter to Tenzin for his air-bender legacy book, she obliges quietly, too tired to argue anymore.
In this letter, she explains to Tenzin what got her to fall in love with his wonderful father, and of course shines light on his fun and kid-like way about living, and how she felt lucky enough to stand by and witness his many deeds for the world and the air-nomad culture. Katara is too enveloped in this internalized, shameful resentment that has sat and grown for the man who has become her husband… she doesn’t realize she has failed to remind Tenzin in this letter that he is also part Water Tribe through his amazing mother… a woman who stood by the Avatar when nobody else would, who was his anchor of hope and strength when he had none… who taught herself water-bending and became her own hero while waiting for one to be realized. Katara’s tears stain the parchment of this letter, so much so that she doesn’t notice she didn’t even mention Tenzin’s beautiful siblings, Kya and Bumi, who – while they might not be air-benders – would still love him and be there for him throughout his life.
The photographs of the family are indeed happy, and courteous… rehearsed, and poised… because this, this is the family that must inspirepeople.
Leave it to Katara – the one who always placed others before herself – to always be thinking about that biggerpicture.
After all, what kind of message would it bring to the next generation… a world, still vulnerable by the consequences of war… if they saw the Avatar’s family as unhappy?
“The kiss in the ATLA finale was perfect. It’s what Aang deserved.”
“So… you didn’t think it was necessary to know Katara’s feelings before that happened?”
“Why should I? Aang was a good guy, he loved her, and stayed true to her. It’s Katara’s fault for leading him on since the beginning. How DARE she so much as even look at another guy, when a nice one is standing right there? She should feel lucky to iron Aang’s robes for the rest of his life, after treating him so poorly. Plus, Aang is the Avatar. He saved the world. If Katara didn’t love him by the end, it would practically be a crime.”
1) Zuko and Katara’s elements might showcase an “opposites attract” idea, but they’re the same people: both are hot-headed and stubborn and would be at each other’s throats. Katara and Aang carry the “soft boy/head strong girl” dynamic that is more healthy.
Let’s dive into this idea that Katara and Aang compliment each other better based on their natural responses to danger/conflict:
Aang is playful and cheerful where Katara is serious and focused.
Aang is a patient and peaceful soul where Katara is quick to anger.
Aang encourages Katara to reach for the sky, and Katara keeps him grounded.
Okay– so it’s safe to say that whenever one partner is angry/frustrated, the other approaches them in a calm, collected supportive manner… right?
Actually, look closer. These fun-loving, playful and peaceful kid-like traits embedded in Aang’s personality are traits that Katara always had in her– she just needed someone like Aang to remind her that she had them. The focused, serious and disciplined traits of Katara are all traits that Aang should be adopting into his own sense of maturity as he gradually becomes more confident and determined to be The Avatar.
It’s not so much that Katara and Aang compliment each other enough to manage a relationship together, but more that theyinspireeach other to become more complex, beautiful, individual human beings. Romantic potential between them has nothing to do with that.
This “soft boy/head strong girl” idea of Kataang doesn’t even address the way Katara always hides her dark side/emotional issues from Aang in order to be a capable “voice of reason” for him on any given moment, or the fact that Katara is always defending Aang like a mother to a son, chasing him every time he literally or figuratively runs away from problems. The dynamic between them is an imbalance of maturity rather than a balance of character traits.
Which leads me to Zutara’s dynamic; yes, Zuko and Katara are quite hot-headed, stubborn individuals who easily get frustrated when people don’t see things their way. They have been at each other’s throats in the past… but here’s what people forget – they stopped fighting the moment Zuko learned the error of his ways, stood by Katara’s side without judgment when she faced YonRha, and they became an unstoppable well-oiled machine of a duo who understood, respected and trusted each other enough to lay down their lives for the other.
It isn’t to say that Zuko and Katara would never argue or fight again, but the difference here is that their shared maturity, their understanding and mutual respect for one another would keep them at bay to hear each other’s point of view. They have seen the darkest sides to each other and would know how to approach it calmly and collectively. Neither of them would downplay or ignore the other’s anger; they would face each other until the conflict is resolved.
And that’s why Zutara’s dynamic, despite sharing similar character traits, holds a lot more weight and power that Kataang.
2) “Their bond is so epic that not wanting them together is like not wanting Han Solo/Princess Leia to be together.”
Okay, so, I’m not completely disagreeing here.
I do understand that Katara and Aang had a spiritual connection since the beginning (very much like how Hayao Miyazaki sets up two protagonists to have a special, unspoken bond) and the adventures/obstacles they face together make their relationship all the much stronger. I see Katara seeing Aang as the culmination of all of her dreams come true with the revelation that he is the Avatar, and that she brought him back, and I see Aang seeing Katara as the person who not only welcomed him into this second chance to fulfill his destiny, but to also guide him as a voice of reason into this darker war-torn world that he isn’t prepared for. As Bryke once commented, Katara and Aang are the “DNA of the show” and I interpret this as the two of them moving the story forward… taking the initiative to go from plot-point to plot-point to fulfill all the needed tasks (ie. finding Aang bending masters) in order to have Aang become a fully realized Avatar.
My argument here is, why does it have to turn romantic? Why can’t the bond remain as a spiritual, wholesome connection between friends? Even Roku and Toph brought up the idea of friendship being such a powerful bond that it can transcend lifetimes in “The Avatar and the FireLord”… and I think the beauty of Aang and Katara is that it was a powerful friendship that occurred serendipitously and yet perfectly, setting up the entire arc of the ATLA story. To me there is more emotional weight in keeping Katara and Aang as life-long friends rather than making things romantic.
The problem with turning their bond into a romance is that it brings up a lot more issues. Katara is not a nomad like Aang; she would give up her own personal wants/needs to not just be at Aang’s side but traveleverywherewith him as the Avatar’s SO, when we know that she is a girl who prefers setting roots, building connections and helping people for as long as its needed (”Imprisoned” and “The Painted Lady”). She has a strong connection to her family in the SWT and would want to rebuild her home after the war and especially train new water benders. Her SWT culture that greatly values quality family time, a meat-based diet, clothing made by animal skins would also clash with Aang’s personal tastes– he’s not even discreet about how much he doesn’t like SWT food. Furthermore, Aang as the Avatar would have so much responsibility fulfilling his work to the world that he would have a lot of trouble understanding the emotional needs/wants to Katara as a partner– especially since in the show, he’s so accustomed to seeing her be mature enough to handle tough situations calmly and collectively. Aang has even repeatedly avoided, ignored or downright down-played Katara’s angry and aggressive outbursts, so it goes to show that he wouldn’t know how to properly “be there” for her dark moments. Katara has gotten accustomed to setting aside her own emotional headspace to instead nurture/coddle/support Aang. It becomes a very lonely, very unsung existence, carrying that responsibility to be “collected” one in the relationship. It’s easy to determine that this would continue as they’d get older, and Katara would continue to carry that heavy burden of always “being there” for Aang, but not vice versa.
The emotional imbalance in a romance between Katara and Aang would be palpable (and it’s implied in LoK and the comics that they did have problems) especially since healthy relationships are meant to express equality and partnership– where the two people interchangeably give love and support as needed.
So yes, Kataang is indeed an “epic” relationship in the sense of friendship, but turning it into a romance would come at the cost of the individual characters’ wants/needs and development, and the healthy dynamic that they had as friends would suffer.
3) “But… what about Aang?? He’s loved her since the beginning and would be so devastated from Katara’s rejection, he wouldn’t be able to fulfill his duty as the Avat–”
Stop. Just– I’m gonna stop you right there.
It is not Katara’s responsibility to be there for Aang, especially as PR/damage control for the Avatar. She does not owe Aang a relationship just because he harbored strong feelings for her, or because he’s grown to depend on her over time, or because he has this unbelievable power of the Avatar State that he hasn’t learned to control without her influence.
Aang is the one who must grow up, who needs to be the Avatar and understand how to manage this power and sense of duty to the world. On his own.
Aang needs to learn to be enough on his own.
… And while we’re on this topic, it is neverhealthy for someone to be figuratively “stuck” or “trapped” in a relationship just because their partner would be a lost, broken wreck without them.
That is called “codependency,” and that is not okay.
