Tumblr crosspost (13 November 2019)
Aug. 2nd, 2021 02:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anghraineI responded to a post from pulpofiction/steinbecks about Noatak and Tarrlok, saying:
I like this (especially Noatak being a quintessential waterbender, like Ozai was all about power). I do think Tarrlok was really extremely depressed, though—mostly because powerlessness and futility seem the themes that he keeps reiterating. He was shaped by his father, his father set them on their paths, fate brought them together. IMO he has a lot of self-hatred going on; it’s probably why he hurt himself so badly with the Equalist glove, too (it’s usually read as him being insanely committed to his story, but he goes even beyond even that—he hurts himself worse than we ever see the actual Equalists do to their actual victims).
By the time he leaves the Air Temple, I don’t think he needed much to push him over the edge; Noatak’s amoral cheer probably just confirmed his belief that that their paths were fixed as children and they were irredeemable as a matched set. He could just as easily have attacked Noatak as the boat—probably more easily, in fact—but instead, he made sure that the last thing Noatak heard was comforting, that they both died, and that they died together. I think that’s … significant.
I then added to her response:
In that case, I’d read his blowing up the boat as a snub at his own powerlessness; rather than let fate and/or his father continue guiding his actions, directing him, trapping him in irredeemability, he makes one last ploy for power over his own destiny, a final act of agency.
That is exactly how I see it. And yes, I definitely both read and prefer to read it as less antagonistic, very much “let’s go out together,” and I think the final shift in tone supports it—from the ambivalence of “yes, Noatak” to the conviction and reassurance of “just like the good old days.” And it’s tangled up in Tarrlok’s depression and despair and general self-loathing, but I do think it’s his way of making an active choice of his own volition.
After all, it’s essentially what he asked Korra to do for him: end this. Except she didn’t. And I think he may have felt that she couldn’t, it wasn’t for her to do: that ultimately it was up to them to end their story on their terms. Noatak isn’t up to it, though, so it has to be him; the fact that Noatak DOES seem to know what he’s doing and does nothing but unflinchingly cry just moves it even closer to suicide pact territory.
I like this (especially Noatak being a quintessential waterbender, like Ozai was all about power). I do think Tarrlok was really extremely depressed, though—mostly because powerlessness and futility seem the themes that he keeps reiterating. He was shaped by his father, his father set them on their paths, fate brought them together. IMO he has a lot of self-hatred going on; it’s probably why he hurt himself so badly with the Equalist glove, too (it’s usually read as him being insanely committed to his story, but he goes even beyond even that—he hurts himself worse than we ever see the actual Equalists do to their actual victims).
By the time he leaves the Air Temple, I don’t think he needed much to push him over the edge; Noatak’s amoral cheer probably just confirmed his belief that that their paths were fixed as children and they were irredeemable as a matched set. He could just as easily have attacked Noatak as the boat—probably more easily, in fact—but instead, he made sure that the last thing Noatak heard was comforting, that they both died, and that they died together. I think that’s … significant.
I then added to her response:
In that case, I’d read his blowing up the boat as a snub at his own powerlessness; rather than let fate and/or his father continue guiding his actions, directing him, trapping him in irredeemability, he makes one last ploy for power over his own destiny, a final act of agency.
That is exactly how I see it. And yes, I definitely both read and prefer to read it as less antagonistic, very much “let’s go out together,” and I think the final shift in tone supports it—from the ambivalence of “yes, Noatak” to the conviction and reassurance of “just like the good old days.” And it’s tangled up in Tarrlok’s depression and despair and general self-loathing, but I do think it’s his way of making an active choice of his own volition.
After all, it’s essentially what he asked Korra to do for him: end this. Except she didn’t. And I think he may have felt that she couldn’t, it wasn’t for her to do: that ultimately it was up to them to end their story on their terms. Noatak isn’t up to it, though, so it has to be him; the fact that Noatak DOES seem to know what he’s doing and does nothing but unflinchingly cry just moves it even closer to suicide pact territory.