I suspect that writing this Roku novel was no easy task. Unlike Kyoshi or Yangchen, Roku is a character with a great deal of canon lore, so there isn’t much room for exploration or development that doesn’t quickly butt into the confines of what we already know about him.

The only path left is inward. 

Randy Ribay’s exploration of Roku’s interiority is often poignant and is easily the best part of the book.

“Roku Alone,” where Roku is brought back to the memories of his brother’s death, his parents’ silence, and his own unaddressed grief, brought me to tears (helped by an excellent reading from Nancy Wu).

It was, perhaps, expected that Roku spend this novel dealing with a dark night of the soul before embracing his Avatarhood, and I am glad that Ribay took the expected path here.

Unfortunately, the aforementioned canon imposes restrictions on how far Ribay can actually take Roku on his soul quest. After all, Roku can’t discover anything really nasty about Sozin until later in life, and he can’t marry Tamin until he’s learned all four elements, so their interactions must also be minimal (though honestly, I don’t understand why we couldn’t have gotten more Tamin--they can’t start dating? We can’t get some glimpses into their relationship?). Roku also can’t totally turn his back on the Fire Nation or his upbringing yet, because he needs to be in Sozin’s good graces before the master plan for conquest is finally revealed. 

Ribay does still try to raise questions about the nature of power, the implications of colonization, and whether the ends ever justify the means, but the answers offered are rather paltry.

Most of the book takes place on a mysterious island, populated by a clan whose leader fears losing their culture and way of life to foreign powers who will strip their natural resources. And guess what?

That’s exactly what happens, despite all the promises of protection that Roku and Gyatso make. 

In the face of colonization and the exploitation of a native people, the only defense that can be mustered is “well, killing the bad guys would be bad though.” Which, sure, but here the way of peace feels more like an after-school special than a deep, nuanced examination of the true cost of exposing the insular community to the eye of the world. In the end, all the island is left with is the Avatar’s promise of protection, and we see at once that this isn’t going to actually do much for them in the long run. The Avatar may be powerful, but he’s not omniscient or omnipresent. He’s just one guy, and a flawed one at that, blinded by prejudice and culture and the power structures he’s never examined.

Maybe the whole situation was meant to be unsatisfying, but I think it’s more likely that Ribay was backed into a corner by a canon, and this was the best that could be done. 

After all, the most interesting parts of Roku’s life all happen when he’s older, not when he’s 16. Roku’s real reckoning is still to come, as the audience well knows.