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that-ari-blogger · 1 month ago

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"Do It" (Destiny Part 2)

When you interact with a lot of similar media, you tend to notice patterns and recurring tropes. Most notably in this example is the final season darkest hour.

Typically, when a series wants to ensure that the stakes are higher for its final arc, it will end the previous in a very dark place. Avatar: The Last Airbender does this, and I just covered The Owl House doing a very similar thing.

But She-Ra has a lot more to it than just the singular convention. This is an incredibly cerebral series with a ton of moving parts. So, for the season four finale, I would like to examine a few of them, and what they do for the story.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Marvel’s Cloak and Dagger, A Christmas Carol)

Context is important, and stories have an understated ability to draw together disparate elements into a cohesive entity through a consistent theme.

Here, that is twofold. The series as a whole has been about the cycle of abuse as portrayed through tragedy, specifically in its antonymic relationship with genuine love. But Destiny Part 2 zeroes in on the chronological geography of this. As in, there is a distinct sense of time in this episode, and a discussion of the past and future and their impact on the present.

Everything in this episode revolves around these two ideas, and so everything must be analysed through those lenses.

Starting with the runestones, which are an idea original to the 2018 reboot.

“It’s like…”

“…connection.”

Throughout this season, we have seen the princesses glow when they achieve camaraderie, and that glow is near identical to that of the planet balancing itself. Near identical. The runestones are shown to be more powerful than regular camaraderie.

We don’t actually know the origins of the Runestones, with the exception of them being native to Etheria. The Legend of the Fire Princess graphic novel has one in it that was created by the first ones, which implies that the others were not. But I am here to talk about the main series. (If you want me to discuss the book or any other supplemental media, my ask box is open).

As such, I find it important that the power of the Runestones, much like that of She-Ra, predates the First Ones, which means that it was not theirs to use.

In my previous post about She-Ra, I commented on the First Ones as colonialists, and this adds to that symbolism.

The First Ones co-opted something that was, by all accounts, sacred to the people of Etheria, or at least of significant cultural value. It was repurposed into a weapon that would, as a side effect, wipe out the planet. Cruel and uncaring. The First Ones viewed Etheria as a tool that could be cast aside when it was no longer of use, a worthy sacrifice.

In terms of our themes, this is most definitely abusive behavior, and that continues into the cyclical nature of that abuse.

I have also discussed how it doesn’t matter if the First Ones were the aggressors in their war or not. If the First Ones were under siege, then they felt the only way to defend themselves was to inflict more suffering on bystanders. The abuse they received turned them into the villains of this season. But I think the most important moment for this part of the episode is this:

In her desperation and powerlessness, Glimmer tries to destroy the Runestone.

The anger at being used has been turned against the First Ones, but they are using the culture of the people they have colonized as a shield. To get to us, you need to stab yourself.

It’s forcibly disconnecting the people from the symbol of their culture, metaphorically and literally breaking their connection and leaving them weak and in a place of vulnerability.

This wasn’t even intentional. I don’t think the First Ones sat down and schemed about how, when this master plan goes off, there will be one princess who tries to break the runestones. It was a side effect. All of this was a side effect.

The main role of this was to destroy a different force entirely, Etheria was never part of the equation. The First Ones were fighting a war with someone else, and Etheria was just a sacrifice that could be made.

Glimmer is technically surrounded by the corpses of her enemies here. That is the context for her statement that "we are the good guys". Yes, they are robots, but Emily is sentient, so...

Abuse is fundamentally selfish. To the abuser, it isn’t about the victim, it’s about the anger and often pain that needs to go somewhere. It’s about the power and control. The victim was just there. My feelings matter, my heart, my obsession, my anguish. You are a convenient scapegoat.

It is important to understand that this mindset is built on a misunderstanding.

There is a reason for it. Of course there is. Everyone has a reason for their behavior. That’s what the cycle of abuse is. You get so wrapped up in your own mind that other people stop existing, and you are left with empty shells around yourself. But having a reason does not make you right.

There are real people around the abuser and the abused. She-Ra is a series about those real people, hence why it is so human in almost every character. It is about the real people who are hurt by someone else’s drama, the real people who get burned by being too close, the real people who get caught in the crossfire.

The Runestones are symbolic of those real people en masse. Used as pawns, corrupted, and destroyed.

In that sense, they also relate to the episode theme of time. They are monuments of a distant past and a history even greater.

At the risk of oversimplification, Runestones in the real world are a Scandinavian concept that emerged before the Viking age but gained traction during it. The vast majority were dedicated to the fallen, but a fair few discussed everyday life and stand as monuments.

They also look nothing like those in She-Ra.

In She-Ra, the Runestones are aesthetically just gems and crystals that are big and look cool. So, why go with the name?

First and most obviously, it sounds magical. Runes sound magical and as any architect will tell you, a large part of any creation is the emotions it inspires. If you want a story about magic, saying “this is a glowing crystal called a runestone” is an easy way to do that.

Although, that does bring up an interesting meta question of why there is magic in this story? As in, what does it do for the themes?

I plan on delving into this question in more detail in a later post, so you have that to look forward to.

For the moment, however, the She-Ra has made a point of connecting magic to nature, and so the name “rune-stone” entangles magic to the ground itself. It is the bedrock of these civilizations.

The other reading is that the stones themselves serve as runes, which are in turn a form of written language and communication. They are the words of people long gone, although crucially, their descendants are still there.

This is how culture exists in a very real sense. Not merely through written words, but through the language and communication itself. Mythology and religion, history and philosophy. Word of mouth and art. Culture is not a static thing of aesthetics but a dynamic manifestation of shared ideas, and sometimes it dies out, but usually it just continues and evolves into new forms. It is everything that has come before and every word that is spoken.

I mean that literally. Every single word has a history and evolution that makes up its current form. The word "Silhouette" comes from a French who didn't like to spend money. Language is the manifestation of history and how it informs the present day. It’s part of everyday life, it is context.

The Runestones are that language as a physical manifestation that literally grants power, and the First Ones use them to destroy people. In this way, what the First Ones did was cultural appropriation, and I don't think my opinion is unpopular that this is, in fact, bad.

Moving on to Light Hope.

“Mara. Mara would not want me to… Mara was a traitor. She turned against her people.”

We have seen two sides of Light Hope. The one who Mara befriended, and the one whom has manipulated her way through half of the series. The weapon of war who couldn’t escape. The cycle of abuse come full circle.

We have seen Light Hope get humanised, and then cast that away. But as best we could tell, it was the system itself that overrode her free will.

This line, however, muddies the waters, because it reminds me of another in the same episode.

“People have hurt you, haven’t they? They didn’t believe in you. They didn’t trust you. Didn’t need you. Left you.”

Of all the people to draw a connection to, Light Hope’s dismissal of Mara is strangely reminiscent of Catra’s antagonism towards Adora.

The cycle of abuse hasn’t just happened before on a grand scale with the She-Ras themselves being destined for tragedy, but this specific plot has happened before, and look how it ended up.

Catra has spent the entire story addicted to power like a safety net. She craves being the highest ranked one in the room because it’s safer, but there isn’t much room at the top of the pyramid. You end up alone, and isolated, and with further to fall.

Catra has been trying to claim power like Shadow Weaver taught her, but has ended up like Light Hope. Alone in her tower, scheming, reminiscing, caught up in memory and spite.

This is a warning to Catra. Most obviously, change your ways. But just to be safe, don’t ever cut your hair and don’t ever start wearing white.

Once again linking back to the themes. The cyclical nature of this series is best exemplified by the threat of another season. This is a story that wants to end, to be free, but it keeps coming back to a song and dance.

I mean this as a compliment. This is the only series that makes me fear another season, but stay glued to my seat as I watch and love every moment. The screen protects me from what is happening inside, and the fact this is a story means that I can stop at any time. That isn’t a luxury the characters are given.

The aim of the series is to end.

And it will, that’s the key thing here. Everything ends. The cycle of abuse is not a true circle but a spiral that winds in on itself until disaster.

Light Hope and Mara are the emblems of a previous cycle. Their story ended in tragedy they couldn’t avert and that left naught but shattered people and places in its wake. Light Hope was Catra, she was someone who was happy. But now she is an instrument of the system that drove them apart, unable to understand or take comfort from Adora until the end, begging for Adora to "do it", begging for death. This is who Catra will be.

Don’t believe me? There is only one other person who uses the words “do it” in this episode. Can you guess who that is?

“What are you waiting for? Do it. Looks like we're both alone, Sparkles.”

There is, however one majour difference between the old story and the new. This rendition isn’t over yet.

I haven’t seen nearly as many Marvel films and TV series as I should have. I saw Infinity War and End Game, I saw Thor: Ragnarok, and I watched Moon Knight, but other than that, I mostly never cared for the series as a whole. I didn’t dislike the films, I just never cared that much.

Which is honestly weird, because I read comics on the regular, and got into comics through Marvel. I started with a Spiderman one shot in the Clone saga, and while I wouldn’t call myself a comic nerd by any stretch of the imagination, I was enough in the spaces to know who Jeff the Land Shark was before Marvel Rivals was a thing.

The reason I bring this up is to recommend a series I left out of the above list, Joe Pokaski’s Cloak and Dagger, which ran from 2018 to 2019.

I had read a few comics featuring the eponymous heroes before I saw the series, so I knew vaguely who these people were, but this was one of those series that got me at just the right time to leave a lasting mark on my psyche.

Most notably, this is the place from which I get the phrase “There’s always a point of no return. It’s called the end.” But there’s a little more to it.

The premise of this series is that Luisiana is always saved by two kids, and that one of them will always die in the process. Tyrone and Tandy (Cloak and Dagger respectively) spend the series trying to find a way to escape this cyclical tragedy.

The season one finale will always break me, because we see the moment when Tandy comes the closest to being the one to die, and it’s not in an overly violent fashion, it’s in a phone call.

The two are trapped in a surreal, timeless landscape, and Tandy is presented with a phone using which she can call her deceased father a moment before he dies. She picks up the phone, has a brief conversation, and then the line goes dead. She picks up the phone again and has the same conversation. Again, and again, and again. Just one moment.

Tyrone asks her to leave, she refuses, so he asks her how long she has been there, a question to which she has no clear answer.

If Tyrone hadn’t rescued her, Tandy would have as good as died there and then. Lost to a memory. Lost to the trauma of losing her father playing back to her over and over again.

Cloak and Dagger are played by Aubrey Joseph and Olivia Holt, and while Holt's performance as Tandy in this scene is the showstopper, it would be remiss of me to not mention Joseph's portrayal of Tyrone as he realises what is happening and tries to stop it.

There is always a moment of no return. It’s called the end.

You lose when all hope is lost. You lose when you give up. You lose when you let everything consume you. You lose when you stop trying to escape.

Cloak and Dagger keep getting told that one must live and one must die, and their response is “how about no?”.

Light Hope lost. She became the monster that created her. But that cycle ain’t done for the here and now, Adora and Catra can fix this.

This actually moves really nicely into the third and final element of this episode that I would like to discuss. The title.

Destiny and fate are funny things, aren’t they? They don’t actually mean anything. Not tangibly, anyway. Yes, yes, your fate and your future are one and the same. But that isn’t a fair metric, is it?

Is fate inescapable? Was I fated from birth to write this post? Was my future laid out for me? Or does it work slightly differently?

I am partial to the dichotomy between fate and free will. That being, a person with free will has the autonomy to make their own way in the world and decide their own fate, whereas everyone else is just pulled along by the strings of time. I think this is sweet.

In practice, I have found one way of writing destiny that I like. Nature.

For the record, I am including nurture within this. A person’s nature is just who they are, their history and goals, their fears and hopes.

Specifically, life experiences make up a person. If I find an arachnophobe and I give them a spider, I can be pretty sure how they will react. That is your destiny. It is the path set in front of you by yourself. There is freedom to wiggle within that, but everyone has a set of key components that make up their personality, and in the right circumstances, this can be manipulated.

I could go for the obvious here and talk about how God Of War: Ragnarök leverages this to talk about trauma. I could. It would certainly fit with She-Ra’s discussion of that concept through the cycle of abuse.

But instead, I am going to recommend you the video by Overly Sarcastic Productions (@comicaurora) about that very topic (link) and go further into the past with Charles’ Dickens’ A Christmas Carrol, or more photogenically, the Muppets film of the same name.

“Are these the shadows of things that will be? Or are they the shadows of things that may be only?”

A Christmas Carrol delves into themes of redemption and capitalism, and I will die on the hill that Charles Dickens had a wicked and very dark sense of humour that was brought about by the time in which he was writing. But for the purpose of this post, the book wields the future like a threat.

“Your chains are forged by what you say and do.

So have your fun, when life is done, a nightmare waits for you.”

In A Christmas Carrol, fate is just consequence. Cause and effect. The book is about three ghosts appearing to a miserable old man who thinks he is alone and unimpeachable and showing him multiple occasions when his life was directly impacted by others, for better and for worse, and the effect that his life is having on others.

It opens with a warning from the ghost of Scrooge’s business partner/partners. Cause: Greed. Effect: Chains. Easy one two punch.

It is crucial to me that when Scrooge finds his grave and asks if the future can be changed, the spirit gives no response. It doesn’t give him comfort, but it also doesn’t tell him his future is set. You can try and change your fate. Go for it. If you don’t you will end up here. Alone even in death, but still buried like every other man. There are no coins in your coffin, just memories.

The point of no return is called the end. You decide what that will end up being.

Adora and Catra have been thrust into this story by their natures, and they have been positioned in such a way that can only lead to destruction.

It was in Catra’s nature to take Adora leaving as badly as she did, because she has grown up being told that affection is exclusive and that a person can only care about one other person. She has been taught love in an incredibly dysfunctional way, and she is just a traumatised child, but she’s a traumatised child who is actively wrecking other people’s lives.

Similarly, Adora is a hero in the most self-destructive way possible. She has to save everyone, has to destroy herself for everyone else’s happiness. She is a pawn in a war and she will burn herself to the ground to feel any kind of warmth and it will kill her.

It is these two’s destinies which clash. The cycle of abuse is a spiral that leads to destruction. The tragedy is tragic. So, what do?

To change your fate, you make the decision to change your nature. An arachnophobe can overcome their fear, Scrooge could become a charitable man, Adora and Catra can escape.

If we lean back into the path metaphor. Your nature is a road that itself is moving towards a destiny. If you try and get off it, you will fall over. But you can reach the edge. You can break free. You can start moving in a different direction.

It is always possible to change.

Before I finish up, I want to discuss Horde Prime’s introduction, because he is fantastically incurious in a way that leans into what I have been saying about the inherent self-centredness of abuse.

“You have forgotten who you are. You truly think you are worthy to stand beside me, could be equal to me?”

If Horde Prime was reading Hordak’s mind, he would have seen the portal and the source of the energy reading. He would have been curious as to its use. But no, he projected.

It didn’t matter what Hordak did, it would never have been enough. The fact that he gave himself a name was sufficient to warrant animosity. Prime didn’t need a reason, he needed an excuse to show off his power to Glimmer, but also to himself.

Side note here, Horde prime is played by Keston John, who also plays Darius in The Owl House, and has a voice that can melt butter.

I say this because he turns that off like a switch as he shouts down the powerless Hordak. That grace and smoothness is gone for a horrible growl.

This tiny little gesture as Prime draws back his hand before he strikes. He's deliberately offering Hordak grace and kindness, deliberately making it clear that they were an option and he chose violence. He is giving hope so that it stings even more when he takes it away.

Which presents a question: Is Horde Prime actually put together? Is the snarling monster a tool that he uses? Or is it the real man? Does the distinction matter?

Prime has to be told about the weapon. He doesn’t think for himself, he just coasts off everyone else’s misery.

This man is a physical threat, sure. We have seen that in previous episodes. But here he establishes himself as a thematic force in the narrative. He is an abuser, he is a manipulator, he is selfish.

Horde Prime is terrifying.

Final Thoughts

I had meditations about Arcane and Shakespeare in this that I had to cut because this is one of the longest posts I have ever written.

I want to stress that She-Ra as a series didn’t go places. It didn’t cover new ground as it progressed. Episode two of series one shows a home destroyed by the trauma of a war and the psychological damage that the cycle of abuse can do to a person. She-Ra started here, it just got blunter as the characters got more and more wrapped up in their own heads. Eventually, the show literally wrote its themes on the walls.

This is a tragedy desperately trying to happen. That’s what’s so compelling about the final season yet to come. The character’s have one last moment to get their arses off that road to the end of the world.

Last chance. Last stop. The point of no return is called the end.

Next week we are diving straight into season five, so stick around if that interests you. Let’s do this thing!

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