the official zutara dissertation (p.6)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Now that we have discussed both Zutara and Kat.aang from a Watsonian and Doylist perspective, we will do the same for the second half of the canon pairings: Mai and Zuko. In this final section, I will prove that Mai.ko’s relationship was incompatible, dysfunctional, and did a disservice to both Mai and Zuko’s character arcs, as well as the themes of the show overall.
BOOK 6: THE DUMPSTER FIRE OF MAI.KO
Why Mai and Zuko don’t work in canon
1. Mai and Zuko have fundamentally incompatible character traits.
Zuko’s fundamental character trait is empathy. Mai’s fundamental character trait is apathy. Zuko is fiercely emotional, expressive and cares deeply about others, even strangers he doesn’t know. Mai is reserved, closed-off and barely seems to care about anyone, even her own family members. It’s true that opposites attract is a common romantic trope, but successful execution of this trope lies in the fact that those differences are compatible in a way that betters both parties, whereas Mai and Zuko’s do not.
Zuko and Mai are canonically unable to reconcile these differences between themselves. Zuko wants Mai to be more open and expressive, calling her a “big blah” and telling her “I wish you would be high strung and crazy for once instead of keeping all your feelings bottled up inside” (Book 3: The Beach). Mai finds it impossible to live up to these expectations, sarcastically apologizing for not being “as high strung and crazy as the rest of you” and yelling at Zuko and Azula to leave her alone when they press her into expressing herself (Book 3: The Beach). Zuko cannot accept Mai as she is, wanting her to fundamentally change herself, while Mai is unwilling to make this change and unable to understand the need for it in the first place.
While these conflicting traits would create a dysfunctional relationship in any circumstance, it is particularly unacceptable when both parties are about to become rulers (of a nation recovering from war, no less) – a position that demands compassion and empathy. When Mai doesn’t even seem bothered about her own brother being kidnapped (Book 2: Return to Omashu), how is she supposed to care about the people of the Fire Nation? When Mai was ready to order around servants for the fun of it (Book 3: Nightmares and Daydreams), how is she supposed to dedicate her life to serving others?
2. Mai does not truly know or love Zuko for who he is, bringing out only the worst in him.
With Mai, Zuko plays the role of what he believes to be the “perfect” Fire Nation prince. He is lazy, spoilt, and obedient to his father and the Fire Nation – all of which is entirely antithetical to who Zuko is at his core.
The Zuko who relentlessly hunted the Avatar for three years with dogged determination, discipline and effort, who stood up for an enemy village, who spoke up in a war meeting at thirteen to save innocent lives is not the Zuko who lounged around eating fruit tarts and silently sat by while his father planned to slaughter millions – and yet the latter is the Zuko that Mai “loves”, even though this is the complete opposite of the person Zuko is, or should be. Zuko himself admits as much, even outright telling Mai that though he was finally the son Ozai wanted, he wasn’t himself (Book 3: Nightmares and Daydreams).
If she genuinely loved Zuko, Mai should have realized this and pushed Zuko to stay true to who he is – but she never disagrees with or disapproves of Zuko’s behaviour in the Fire Nation. In fact, in most of their scenes she seems to enable it, encouraging him to laze around and dragging him into nihilistic self-indulgence and pessimism with her. The Mai that we see with Zuko is undoubtedly Zuko as the worst version of himself.
Zuko is an idealist, someone who never gives up, who believes in doing the impossible, and at the end of the show he is in a position where he desperately needs those qualities to recover from a century of war and change his country. The last thing he needs is someone who cannot share a similar vision, who “hates the world” (Book 3: The Headband) and can only react to it with cold indifference at best. (Hmm, I wonder if we know another female character who always chooses to see the best in the world and actively works to improve it?)
Ideally, a good romance has characters be drawn to each other because they see and love one another for who they are, but neither Mai nor Zuko are able to do this. The Zuko that Mai loves is completely unlike the person he really is, while Zuko wants Mai to be the opposite of who she truly is.
Ultimately, this makes their relationship impossible to buy, because neither appears to like or even know the other for who they really are, and everything we are shown of their personalities and dynamic seems to suggest that there is no reason they would even fall for each other in the first place.
3. Mai and Zuko cannot truly connect with or understand each other, making their relationship appear shallow and based purely on physical attraction.
The incompatibilities in Mai and Zuko’s personalities makes it impossible for them to connect on a deeper level, forcing their relationship to remain shallow and stagnant.
Mai’s lack of desire to express herself means that she does not open up, and in turn frequently cuts Zuko off when he tries to. In their very first scene together, when Zuko tries to discuss his worries with Mai, she tells him that she “didn’t ask for his whole life story” (Book 3: The Awakening) and promptly shuts him down. This pattern continues to be sustained throughout their relationship, with Mai failing to understand why Zuko is upset not to be invited to the war meeting and even glibly insinuating that he should be happy not to go, given the incident that occurred at the last one (Book 3: Nightmares and Daydreams).
When Zuko needs comfort or reassurance, Mai’s response is to either kiss him and just tell him to stop worrying (Book 3: The Awakening) or suggest that he abuse his power over his servants (Book 3: Nightmares and Daydreams), which in and of itself proves just how little Mai actually knows Zuko if she thinks that would genuinely cheer him up. Mai cannot meaningfully support Zuko, because she doesn’t truly listen to or understand his concerns in the first place.
This, coupled with the fact that Mai never really opens up about her own feelings and thoughts, makes it impossible for them to truly connect on a deep, intimate level. This restricts their relationship to be characterized by kissing, flirting and fighting, none of which seem to indicate a genuine, lasting love on either side. Ultimately, this leaves the impression that the only thing really holding Mai.ko together is pure physical attraction, and nothing more.
4. Mai and Zuko’s dynamic is toxic, and would make them both miserable in the long run.
Mai and Zuko are fundamentally incapable of giving each other what they need in a relationship.
Zuko, an abuse survivor, needs a partner who wears their heart on their sleeve, who can be both kind and direct, who understands him without excusing him. He does not need a partner who orders him around by making him get food for her, or repays his efforts to do something nice for her with ingratitude (Book 3: The Beach). He does not need a partner who puts his life in danger for her own petty grievances (Book 3: The Boiling Rock, Part 2), or who belittles and “jokingly” threatens him to stay in the relationship (Book 3: Sozin’s Comet Part 4).
Zuko’s dynamic with Mai reveals a severe lack of communication, sensitivity, and support. While this would be frustrating in any circumstance, it is particularly toxic given that it repeats many of the patterns of abuse that Zuko endured in his childhood. The last thing Zuko needs is to spend a lifetime with another distant loved one who seems impossible to please, who leaves him struggling to figure out what they need from him and makes him feel small and inferior.
On the other hand, a lifetime with Zuko would also mean unhappiness for Mai – not only because Zuko wants her to be someone she’s not, but because the role of Fire Lady would be extremely suffocating for her. As someone who apparently grew up with parents that stifled her (Book 3: The Beach) and is bored very easily, having to spend the rest of her life dealing with the rigid, tedious machinations of politics and ruling would be torture for Mai. Coupled with her inherent lack of emotional qualities necessary for the position, becoming Fire Lady would spell disaster for Mai, Zuko, and the country as a whole.
The Narrative Failure of Mai.ko
1. Zuko’s development at the end of the show has outstripped Mai’s and having them reconcile is an insult to his character.
When the show ends, Zuko has completed his redemption arc and is unquestionably a hero. He has unlearned the nationalist indoctrination he grew up with, made amends for his mistakes, and is nothing like the person he used to be in the Fire Nation.
Mai, however, has undergone none of this growth. She is never shown to question the Fire Nation, disapprove of Fire Nation imperialism or disagree with the Fire Nation’s actions. In their last interaction before their final reconciliation, she still believes that Zuko is a traitor, accusing him of betraying his country and clearly not understanding why he defected (Book 3: The Boiling Rock, Part 2).
Mai ending up with Zuko when she is never shown to grow out of her beliefs or actually work against the Fire Nation on her own terms makes absolutely no sense. She and Zuko are on entirely different paths, and it took Zuko – someone far more empathetic than Mai – years to turn against the Fire Nation. It does Zuko a disservice to suggest that he would willingly be with Mai when he knows that she, at this point, does not share his ideals or beliefs, and has a much longer and more difficult journey ahead of her to get there (it’s also questionable if she ever does really get there, given that she doesn’t appear to care about people she’s not personally involved with).
Had Zuko never defected and instead turned into yet another war-mongering Fire Lord, Mai would have stayed with him. When Zuko has a complete perspective change and pivots in the opposite direction to who Mai originally believed he would become, she still stays with him. Mai ending up with Zuko when he has undergone such a huge change and she hasn’t, loving two entirely different and essentially contradictory people, is utterly nonsensical.
2. Mai’s characterization is retconned to justify her redemption.
“I love Zuko more than I fear you!” is certainly a cool line... except nothing about how Mai is set up until The Boiling Rock earns that statement from her character.
Mai is more than eager to join Azula when she comes to recruit her, even when she finds out that they’re going to hunt down Zuko. At this point, Mai has no reason to believe that Azula will bring Zuko back to the Fire Nation safely, but shows no hesitation about potentially capturing and hurting Zuko, even smiling when Ty Lee says “It’ll be interesting to see Zuko again, won’t it?” (Book 2: Return to Omashu)
Mai defies Azula on multiple occasions with no concern, which implies that she is either unafraid of Azula, or does not believe that Azula will punish her even when she disobeys her. She refuses to enter the sewers to fight Katara and Toph, saying “she can shoot all the lightning she wants at me, I’m not going in there” (Book 2: The Drill) and releases the Earth King’s bear without a fight despite the fact that she is clearly supposed to be on guard (Book 2: The Crossroads of Destiny).
Unlike Ty Lee, there is never a moment before her betrayal where Mai seems scared of Azula – and the animators do add moments of Mai breaking her apathetic façade (such as when Ty Lee hugs her), so they could certainly have done the same in other scenes to show that Mai is secretly afraid of Azula and doesn’t agree with her actions. As it is, there is no distinction made between what Mai does out of supposed fear of Azula and what she does of her own agency, and this makes her redemption and characterization unbelievable.
3. Mai’s redemption is unsatisfactory and undermines the importance of redemption as one of the show’s major themes.
Apart from her retconned characterization, the only other build-up to Mai’s redemption is her betrayal of Azula to save Zuko – except this betrayal doesn’t happen because she experiences growth and rejects the ideology of the Fire Nation of her own will, but because Zuko switches sides, for some reason Mai doesn’t even understand.
If the writers truly wanted to redeem Mai’s character from the start, she had to be shown to distance herself from the Fire Nation in some way, or at least participate in Fire Nation militarism only under duress (as the show did with Ty Lee, which is why her redemption is far more believable). Instead, they characterize Mai as an outright villain, and then try to redeem her at the last minute.
This is particularly galling given the emphasis the show places on restitution as a part of achieving redemption. Zuko’s redemption is satisfying because he doesn’t immediately earn it after one good deed – he has to genuinely see the error of his ways, and then make amends for the hurt he caused. Yet, despite the fact that Mai also hunted the Gaang all over the world seemingly of her own volition, and showed absolutely none of the growth Zuko went through, she’s automatically redeemed because she saved Zuko and his friends once?
Unless Mai magically saw the light while in prison (which isn’t canon, and off-screen character development is not development in any case), neither Zuko nor the Gaang should be comfortable being around Mai at the end of the show, let alone playing pai sho with her in a tea shop. Team Avatar’s easy acceptance of Mai, and Zuko’s willingness to take her back, is a slap in the face both to Zuko’s hard won redemption and to the importance the show places on earning redemption.
4. Making Mai.ko canon undercuts the entire narrative purpose of their relationship, which was meant to illustrate why Zuko made the wrong choice in returning to the Fire Nation.
The reason why Mai.ko is so dysfunctional is because the audience is supposed to see that it is wrong. We are not meant to root for Zuko to find happiness with Mai, because Zuko’s arc in the first half of book 3 is intended to prove that his choice to return to the Fire Nation was 100% the wrong one.
Everything about Zuko’s time in the Fire Nation is supposed to make him uncomfortable and miserable, to show him without the slightest hint of doubt that he is not where he’s meant to be. His relationship with Mai is another seemingly “perfect” aspect of this life that is supposed to make him happy, but does not because it is fundamentally wrong for the person he truly is. When Zuko decides to defect, the decision is supposed to be clear, no longer something to struggle with, because he finally realizes that everything he thought he wanted is not what he really wants. He has changed too much for that, and the fact that he does not want those things any longer is good.
Making Maiko canon after this completely undercuts both this arc and the severity of Zuko’s choice to side with Azula, making it seem as though it’s not all bad that Zuko betrayed Iroh and Katara because he got to reconnect with the love of his life, when really it was unequivocally the worst mistake Zuko ever made. It adds ambiguity to Zuko’s decision to turn traitor, insinuating that he had to “give up” Mai to do the right thing, when the point was that he didn’t really have to give up anything because he didn’t want any of this any longer, and so it was not a struggle at all.
Nothing about his time in the Fire Nation was right for him, and both Zuko and the viewer were supposed to realize that, because that is what drives home the impact of Zuko’s wrong decision in the Crossroads of Destiny, and what proves that Zuko has changed for good. Portraying Maiko getting back together as something positive hurts both this narrative and Zuko’s character development as a whole.
Ultimately, Mai.ko does not work because it is a shallow relationship attempting to force together two fundamentally incompatible people, cheapening and undermining both Zuko and Mai’s characters and arcs. It’s evident that it was not intended to be endgame until extremely late in Book 3, because the set-up, development and progression of this ship is entirely unsalvageable – and only makes Zuko and Katara’s relationship appear even more perfect in comparison.
490 notes
·
View notes