“Love yourself, like your life depends on it” — Kamal Ravikant
Neon Genesis Evangelion is quite the anime.
On first inspection, Evangelion looks like your classic teenage power-fantasy story: Humanity is threatened by an alien race, and some angsty 14 year olds have to get in a giant robot to fight said alien race and save humanity.
It’s this first glance that usually turns people away. They’ll often say things like: “Evangelion is repetitive” or “it’s boring and hard to understand,” losing interest and not giving it a shot after that.
But beneath the childlike prognosis of the story and the unlikable characters, is a deep and philosophical look at the psychology of a human: how we all look to attain impossible standards, how we always try to please people for praise and to discover genuine meaningful relationships, and how we always try to protect ourselves from pain and hardships by running away.
Evangelion is interesting because unlike regular Mecha, it’s not driven by the big action scenes and the fights. Good Mecha anime seem to have a very good balance between positive humor, fights, and philosophy, but Evangelion is different. Instead, it’s driven more on the psychological aspects. It’s fashioned more as a psychological drama with giant robots implemented into it rather than a pure mecha anime.
It’s a very character driven show. Each character has a towering problem they have to face. For Rei, it was her life as a clone, being almost android-like to repress her feelings and prevent her from being hurt emotionally. Asuka has her outward nature to not be the doll that her mother ignored her for, doing everything she can to act independent so that she can show that she is strong. Shinji follows instructions in order to receive praise from others and longs for meaningful relationships with them, but is scared of making everything worse.
And through watching them go through the hardships that come out because of that, Shinji’s blank expressions, Asuka’s sunken face, and Misato’s distant eyes, it was such a bittersweet experience for me as I watched them go through the things that I had also been so familiar to. The feelings of loneliness and self hatred, wanting to be a better person but failing to do so, these are the characters of Evangelion. Broken and sad, with no place left to go, nothing left to do, and the main reason why Evangelion is able to tell such a compelling and powerful story about one’s journey to self love.
In this essay, we’ll be looking at the characters of Shinji and Asuka, the tragedy in their relationship, their journey to self worth and self love, and what we can take away from their intertwining character arcs to become the best person we can be.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Part 1: In the case of Shinji Ikari
Shinji Ikari is probably one of the most misunderstood anime protagonists of all time. He often comes off as unbearable and annoying, a spineless kid who’s selfish enough to not try and save the world because he’s scared.
Honestly, It’s a bit of a shame, too. I personally believe that Shinji’s character is a whole lot deeper and richer than most people give credit for, and that he’s probably one of the most, realistic and well written depictions of a scared, broken teenager, suffering through immense pressure of saving the world as well as not having anyone to really turn to and vent at.
Because really, what if you had to save the world in a giant robot that you have never seen before? How would you react if your father made you kill your friend as you watched?
Life’s just not as simple as blindly throwing your life away for a “greater good”, and Evangelion understands that. Sure, there are very good animes that do this while not being bad, but Evangelion has a realistic element that portrays the character’s internal struggle in a relatable manner.
And that makes it even more powerful when even when Shinji does know the danger and the pressure he’s facing that’s enough to make him run away, Shinji always comes running back. While some people may interpret this as a “character inconsistency” or “proof that Shinji only grows balls when the story needs him to”, it was more of a sign of Shinji’s insecurities and his inability to think for himself.
At his very core, Shinji is a people player; he always does what is asked of him. While he’s not at the point where he just accepts orders and instructions without question, in the end he always carries those instructions out. And Evangelion explains this seamlessly, putting subtle hints in his psyche and the way his character acts.
Evangelion shows that driving this mentality is how little value Shinji places on himself. In following the other’s instructions, Shinji doesn’t even see himself as human, or at least equal to the others. In his eyes, he’s meant to be a machine, a tool to be used, living off the rare moments when someone compliments him, or gives him a friendly smile.
Shinji doesn’t know how to think for himself because he’s never wanted to. The only thing he’s really ever wanted was to get some love from people. Love from his dad, love from his peers and love from the people at Nerv helping him alongside his journey. He constantly craves for the loving touch of a mother and for the deep, meaningful moments with someone, and to do so, always has relied on pleasing people and doing things for others in the hopes that someone will notice his efforts and give him that genuine connection he seeks.
It hurts especially for the audience because we watch him struggle through the moments of pain with him, we see the fear in his eyes as he is forced to get in the mecha even when it’s clear how much he doesn’t want to. We see the emotional baggage and the suffering he goes through, and it makes us want to scream out to him that he doesn’t have to do this, that there is another path. We’re made sad, even frustrated at Shinji’s self deprecation because there is nothing we can do about it except stand around and watch as he mentally tortures himself.
And in the classic hedgehog dilemma scenario, he is also scared of getting too intimate with someone and pushing them away. He’s scared to comfort Misato after she loses Kaji out of the idea that he’ll only make things worse for her, because he is nothing more than a tool. And because he’s never known how to be anything other than that, he can’t be anything other than that, pushing the people that could’ve helped him away.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Part 2: In the Case of Asuka Langley Soryu
Asuka Langley Soryu, pilot of the Evangelion Unit 02 and the third child chosen to pilot one of the Evangelion units. Also, a bit of a jerk.
There are several striking features about Asuka that immediately stand out to you when the audience is first introduced to her. The almost western fiddle-like background music, her anger when Sugaha accidentally takes a peek, and her immediate dismissal of Shinji’s mellow nature.
And it’s here when we realize, that in her anger of being peeked at and her dismissive nature and with everything she went through, Asuka is a tsundere, and I am all here for it.
Tsunderes are a bit of a joke in the anime community for being stupidly overused. I’m sure there’s a joke in there in criticizing anime in that they all include a male teenage protagonist and an edgy violent female love interest who has to “open up to her feelings,” and open up to the male protagonist. It’s a stereotype that people always poke fun at especially when talking about anime, and the funny part is that a lot of it is true, yet most of the animes that suffer from these stereotypes can also maneuver around these shortgivings and even utilize them to create a good anime.
So while Asuka is really just your average tsundere girl, Evangelion gets past the stereotypes with tsunderes by explaining why. And while there are often tragic backstories written for characters in anime, Evangelion does it in such a sad, emotional way which ties up loose ends and just makes Asuka such a perfectly imperfect pair with Shinji
Take for example, Asuka’s hatred of dolls. Early on in her introduction, it’s established she doesn’t like dolls. Which is why when she sees Rei, she doesn’t like her, as she is robotlike to the point she reminds Asuka of a doll. Why doesn’t she like dolls? Because as a child, her mother neglected her for her work, making her unstable to the point that she mistook a doll for Asuka and started talking to that doll. When things got to the worst, she took her own life and the doll with her, hanging herself with whom she believed was her daughter.
Asuka is so emotionally scarred by her mother’s ignorance of her for that doll and her mother’s neglect of her at a young age, that it drives her mentality of no weakness, to always be strong, seeking bigger dares and fights to show off her skills, so that people can see her and won’t ignore her like her mother did. Her hatred of dolls is because she was replaced by a doll, her mother chose that doll over her because she wasn’t good or impressive enough for her.
It’s why she’s disgusted by Shinji’s awkwardness, cowardness, and his inability to think for himself, because he reminds her of herself when she was younger. It’s why she dislikes Rei’s personality, or perhaps a lack of one, because Rei reminds her of the same doll that her mother mistook her for. She constantly wants to prove herself so that others can see and start treating her like the mother she had lacked as a child, and so when the thing that makes her special as an Evangelion pilot, when Shinji starts catching up and does get a better sync score, she’s devastated. She can’t take it that a weak and cowardly person like Shinji is better than her. She cracks, and in a desperate attempt at proving her self worth and strength, attempts to take on an angel single-handedly in her frantic mental space, loses, and to put salt on the wound, is saved by the two people she hates the most.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Part 3: The Hedgehog’s Dilemma.
Shinji and Asuka both want the same thing. They want recognition and praise, and more than anything, they want not just sexual but romantic intimacy. They want someone to love them and give them the love that they never got from their parents.
They just have different ways of approaching this problem. Asuka, after being ignored so much, does everything in her power to appear strong, to do things the right way and show others how it’s done so she people can look at her. When she’s chosen as the third child, she excitedly runs home to tell her mother the good news, that people will treat them better now and for her mother to look at her, only to see her mother and the toy doll, next to her limp and under the weight of the noose. She makes it her goal in life to be strong forever, or she’ll be disposed of.
And the only way Shinji sees to obtain love is through following orders, keeping his head low, and trying not to hurt anybody. He sacrifices his own feelings for the feelings of others, scared that if he will yell out, scream, or open up people will dispose of him. He does what other people want him to do even if it costs him his life.
While Shinji and Asuka are looking for the same thing, their relationship in Evangelion can be best described as oil and water. The irony is that it’s clear that as 14 year old teenagers without a purpose in life or anyone to care for them, they’re both sexually and romantically attracted to each other. Asuka wants Shinji to kiss her because she’s bored and even comes across her self proclaimed wall to sleep with Shinji, and Shinji even attempts to kiss her when she’s sleeping next to him.
But Asuka is disgusted by Shinji’s weakness. She sees him as a weak individual who doesn’t try to think for himself, and is frustrated by Shinji putting himself down and not believing in himself. She wants love, and she wants Shinji to notice her, for Shinji to accept himself and to not belittle himself so that he can give her love, but at the same time Shinji is unable to because of his fear of making the situation worse when trying to help, just like a hedgehog as they try and huddle each other for warmth. The more tries her best to reach out and to get Shinji to love her in her tsundere-like way, Shinji pushes her away farther and farther out of fear. He wants to help her, and he wants to help people, but he is restricted by his fear of making it worse for others.
Evangelion tells a tragic story about two people, both exactly what the other person needs, but fails to connect with each other in a meaningful way. While Asuka wants to help Shinji for Shinji to help her, Shinji also wants Asuka to help him, to not ignore him and to care about him, and as each depends on each other more and more, their relationship implodes into both people unable to give each other the love that they so desperately desire.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Conclusion:
Evangelion might not end the way you want.
It doesn’t end with Shinji and Asuka as a happy couple. It doesn’t end with a brutal final battle between two giants. It doesn’t end with all the characters walking toward the setting sun. Instead, Evangelion ends with two of the most controversial episodes in the entire series, and maybe even all of anime.
In a therapist session that stands for two episodes, Evangelion ends on a bit of a mellow note, if you can really call it that. The ideas and the struggles of each main character is broken down and examined in these last two episodes: Misato’s earnestness for sexual activities as an escape from pain, Asuka’s strive for strength as a mask for her separation anxiety, Shinji’s insecurities and self deprecation, and Rei’s robotic nature.
Shinji and Asuka in particular have their entire perspective challenged. After living with the mentality of trying to be strong or following instructions for so long, They’re feel fear of changing these perspectives, they try everything to resist the ideas that they are presented with. It’s another part that Evangelion does so well. The two episodes are made with a pace, tone, and music that’s almost unnerving to the viewer. And the moments of desperation when Shinji and Asuka resist the pain of realizing they’re wrong, the music elevates, or their voices echo into the abyss as they shout, so when they do break through and are a step closer to loving oneself, it feels satisfying.
They’ve come a long way from their early years, when they were so dependent on others for giving them love. But with each of their experiences living in the same apartment, piloting the same types of robots, going through the same pain, regret, and sadness, they’re now able to look forward to the future without each other relying so heavily on the other’s affection.
Evangelion is a story about power. Your power. The power to make the decisions for yourself, the power to give yourself that credit and love that you deserve. Because after everything, you have to love yourself. Love yourself, or no one else will. Love yourself, because you are a great person who has accomplished great things. And, as Mr. Kamal Ravikant says,
“Love yourself, because your life depends on it.”