My Personal Transgender Evangelion Experience
Warning: I am just going to assume you’ve seen Neon Genesis Evangelion, as well as The End of Evangelion. If you haven’t, then this isn’t going to make much sense.
There are several articles and thinkpieces detailing everyone and their mothers’ trans readings of Hideaki Anno’s landmark anime series Neon Genesis Evangelion and its companion film, The End of Evangelion. I have taken it upon myself to read none of these articles or thinkpieces. This is not an expansion of previously postulated ideas, nor is it likely to be a unique take. This is simply my raw, unfiltered thought process. Buckle up.
Suppose you’re not willing to spend $450 at the absolute bare minimum to watch Evangelion the way that a majority of fans will have you believe is the “true” way to experience the series. In that case, you are going to have to resort to piracy. There is quite literally no way around it. In addition to a few controversial changes to the ADV platinum subtitles — most notably, “I love you” vs. “I like you,” and “he said he loved me” vs. “he said I was worthy of his grace” — the “official” version of NGE available on Netflix omits one of the more esoteric, and yet one of the most famous, elements of the show: the end-credits covers of “Fly Me to the Moon.” I’m not one to be an elitist about any sort of media, and here I make no exceptions; whichever version of the show and film you can most reliably get your hands on is the one you should be watching.
But make no mistake, these changes irreparably strip one of the show’s most vital elements away. Its one, undeniable queer element: the romance between Shinji and Kaworu. And this is where I want to start.
Shinji Ikari is, on the surface, a nervous coward. He never seems to muster up the courage to pilot the EVA, and even when he does, it’s always more pessimistic than optimistic. Compared to Asuka, who is often cocky and headstrong, and Rei, who effortlessly completes tasks out of sheer indifference, Shinji simply flounders unless some divine miracle falls in his lap, or when circumstance dictates that he has to do something. By all accounts, Shinji is unfit and unwilling to save the world. Beneath the facade, though? Shinji undergoes extreme metaphysical turmoil, dished out by his ego at his own expense.
And then, Shinji meets Kaworu; this strange young man who seemingly arrives out of nowhere and takes a shine to him. Suddenly, Shinji isn’t just living to please his parents, his friends, his employers — he’s living for himself. For love. For a brief moment, he is happy.
And then, it is all stripped away. It has to be. Kaworu is an angel, born of Adam. Shinji and EVA-01 are demons, born of Lilith. They are destined to battle for survival, and one cannot live while the other survives. Kaworu offers Shinji a choice: let him go, where he will merge with Adam and destroy all of humanity, or kill him right then and there. Slowly, begrudgingly, painfully… Shinji kills his lover. For the rest of the show’s run, he will never truly recover from this.
Who is Shinji Ikari? By that, I mean to say, what does Shinji Ikari mean to others? A lot of postulation is thrown around in the series about how Shinji presents himself to the other characters. There is not merely one Shinji Ikari. There’s Shinji as he knows himself, Shinji as Asuka knows him, Shinji as Misato knows him, Shinji as Rei knows him… similar people, sure, but different in their own ways. Shinji is driven by women and the ideas that these women have of him. In a sense, the being we have come to know as Shinji Ikari is comprised of feminine thoughts. Even Shinji’s knowledge of himself is heavily dictated by the feminine biases he has picked up throughout his troubled upbringing. His father abandoned him, and his mother died when he was young. This lack of a mother, I feel, is what drives Shinji’s psychosexual desire to become one with the women in his life.
Shinji longs for a maternal figure, and finds… well, several, actually. In a sense, Shinji’s mom is Shinji’s mom, and Rei is Shinji’s mom, and Misato is Shinji’s mom, and Lilith is Shinji’s mom, and even EVA-01 is Shinji’s mom. It is less accurate to say that Shinji has an Oedipus complex — rather, Oedipus had a Shinji complex. Shinji’s entire emotional journey centers around these figures, and his complex emotions regarding them. Shinji feels existential terror from the loss of his mother, and he fawns over what his life could have been. The feminine role model in his life has never been consistent, and neither has the presence of femininity. And yet, it is that very absence of femininity that drives Shinji to comprehend it, grasp it — assimilate it.
In End of Evangelion, Shinji experiences a flashback wherein he builds a sandcastle with two friends, represented as dolls, who closely resemble Rei and Asuka. These two friends eventually leave with their mother, who resembles Misato. As the two little girls and their mother leave, Shinji stares at them from across a dock, a long fall separating him from experiencing motherhood. Shinji is inherently motherless; antifeminine. He continues to build his sandcastle, which looks oddly like NERV’s headquarters — his father’s livelihood. In his frustration, he destroys the sandcastle. In doing so, he curses his father. He curses the masculine aspirations prescribed to him by authority. He has become antimasculine.
In his final moments before assimilating into Lilith, Shinji is fighting to keep his independent consciousness. The film reminds the viewer several times that Shinji’s ego is the only hope for humanity’s continued future. Without it, humanity will remain jumbled, formless, and unable to recreate itself. That being said, Shinji’s resistance to becoming one with Lilith is primarily caused by his apprehension with Rei. Once again, Shinji struggles with femininity, with motherhood, and with identity. After all, who is Rei Ayanami, really? She is merely the idea of a human, the soul of Lilith and the form of Shinji’s mother. Rei is the name Shinji’s parents would have given him if he was a girl. In a very real sense, Rei is the daughter that Gendo Ikari never had. Rei is what Shinji wishes he could be.
But Rei isn’t the only person who appears to Shinji in this moment. Who else could finally do him in, convince him to let go of his apprehension to femininity, become one with the divine feminine?… Kaworu. Tender, loving Kaworu. Shinji becomes euphoric at the sight of him. With Kaworu, he has nothing to fear. Kaworu knows him better than anyone. Kaworu sees him as he truly is. In the movie’s own terms, Rei is the hope that one day, people will be able to understand each other. Kaworu is the hope that Shinji will find love, and be loved by others.
Kaworu is, in other words, “I love you.”
So, who is Shinji Ikari? Shinji is Rei. Shinji is Lilith. Shinji is Misato, and Asuka, and Yui… Shinji is all the women he yearns to comprehend. Shinji is the love that Kaworu feels for him — the love that Adam feels for Lilith. That forbidden love that we struggle to put into words. Shinji is the idea of Shinji in the minds of others. Shinji is the idea of Shinji inside of Shinji. Shinji is… me. All of his reticence, his desire, his pain… is my own. Through Shinji, I have become the divine feminine. I have become one with Lilith.
Thus far, I have nearly completely neglected Asuka’s role in this story, and I would be remiss not to discuss it, because Asuka is a critical counterpoint to Shinji. Throughout Neon Genesis Evangelion, Asuka berates Shinji for his cowardice, and scolds him for not being as skilled as her. As Shinji gradually becomes more and more proficient with the EVA, though, Asuka’s cocky facade cracks. She becomes jealous of his success, and of the attention it brings him. Her feelings of inferiority start to creep up on her. We begin to understand that she has a lot in common with Shinji — they both lost their mothers at a young age. They both feel detached from their fathers. They both crave attention, and want to make others proud. They both want to be seen, but hate the idea of being perceived. They hate themselves, and continually contemplate and accept their own deaths.
The difference? Asuka knows who she is and what she wants. Shinji doesn’t.
The final scene of End of Evangelion shows Shinji and Asuka on a desolate shore. The Earth has been completely ravaged, the sea flooded with Lilith’s blood. Lilith watches over them, both literally (Lilith’s halved head looms on the horizon) and figuratively (Rei briefly appears to Shinji before disappearing forever). Shinji, despondent over his identity, grabs hold of Asuka’s unconscious body and chokes her. I have struggled to truly understand this gesture for a few days, but I think I get it now. Throughout the entire movie, Shinji seeks out help from Asuka. He is constantly mentioning her, wishing for her guidance. Wishing for her to call him an idiot, like she always does. When Asuka appears to Shinji in his psychotic apparition, she scolds him for not understanding himself. She calls him pathetic, and pushes him to the ground.
And yet, Asuka needs Shinji, just as he needs her. They are not merely two kindred souls, but two parts of the same being. Asuka exudes confidence, but cannot sustain her internal identity crisis. Shinji is a nervous coward, but he knows what he needs to be content. Asuka and Shinji make a complete person. A flawed person, but a complete one. One that is at the very least functional, if not aspirational.
Shinji begs Asuka to come to. He needs her confidence, her feminine reassurance. Asuka wakes up. It’s just the two of them, at the end of everything. “How disgusting,” she says. And wouldn’t you? The world is torn to shreds, and we are broken people. But we can always put ourselves back together. We can reform ourselves in the image we choose, so long as we commit to being alive. If we stick with it, we might finally understand just how happy we are allowed to be.
As it is in Heaven, so too is it on Earth. God’s in his Heaven. All’s right with the world.
