You, have some Nerv!

Art by Simone Modina

When we pursue media, we seek to experience things in novel ways. We enjoy characters we can relate to, and oftentimes fail to understand why we relate to them. Confusion is in human nature, and the kind of media we chase helps us to better understand this confusion. I am not fourteen years old, and do not live in a world run by mechs. Even so, I can relate to Neon Genesis Evangelion (NGE). I think that to an extent, we all can. It makes us think about the ways we interact with our world, forcing us to ponder how we experience emotion. A complex interplay of art and writing, NGE tells a story that stimulates us in a variety of ways. It questions concepts of holiness, virtue, and innocence; embracing humanity for its flaws, and teaching us how these flaws are the very things that make life beautiful. 

Explaining the plot of NGE without spoilers is a difficult task. The premise of the series hinges on the end of the world, making any kind of synopsis exceedingly delicate. As such, this article can only provide a shallow understanding as to why NGE is so incredible. With this said, the show’s plot is rich enough as to where even a limited understanding of the series is enticing. Whether you like mecha animes or not, I urge you to consider that this show is more than just that. It is nothing like Godzilla, Pacific Rim, or Transformers. It has broader implications that transcend mere violence. But, naturally, the violence is pretty awesome too. 

Picture this: fifteen years ago, half of humanity died. Ever since, world powers have struggled to repair order on a planet that is ravaged by “angels,” entities, ill understood by man. In recent years, angel attacks have increased in commonality. Should the attacks become persistent enough, man will become extinct in an incident referred to as “the third impact.” Nerv, an organisation based in a war-ravaged Japan, is currently recruiting pilots for Evas: giant robots that are dedicated to preventing this tragedy. Who better to recruit than eighth graders?

Somehow, the fate of the Earth has come to rest upon the shoulders of Shinji Ikari, a preteen boy whose father abandoned him as a child. The newest Eva pilot, Shinji struggles in his fight against the unholy. He doesn’t fully understand what angels are, and has no real motivation to save the world. Eventually, his participation with Nerv is dependent on the receival of praise. Shinji’s complex relationship with saving the world is part of what makes NGE so worth watching. Unlike most protagonists, Shinji does not actively want to be a hero. Rather, he wants to pursue the knowledge that he is loved. His desire is selfish, yet it motivates him to do something beautiful: to fight for the life and prosperity of society as we know it. 

In Shinji’s characterization, NGE explores the nature of human behavior, teaching us that there is no such thing as true altruism. People who make sacrifices are intrinsically inclined, and to act without desire is not in our nature. Even if we are motivated by self interest, we can contribute to the creation of something extraordinary– fighting to live in a world where love can exist. In this, NGE challenges the notion that to want is inherently wrong. Shinji’s desire serves as humanity’s only barrier between life and death. 

As the series progresses, we become aware of our ignorance as viewers. Nerv is revealed to be a mystery, its true intentions shrouded in a fog of grandeur. The organisation is too big for us to comprehend, and we only know as much as Shinji. Even when we explore the perspectives of Nerv’s workers, we come to understand that it is morally ambiguous. Misato, Shinji’s boss and primary caregiver, begins to question the depth of Nerv’s jurisdiction. How far does the fight against angels go? How much of life is dependent on the decisions of a single organisation? Though I cannot reveal to you the answers to these questions, I can tell you this: through Nerv, NGE comments on the nature of industry– how consumers and citizens are blind to the ties between government and corporation. 

Upon beginning NGE, you will notice something else about Nerv. Much of the company’s success hinges on the effort of women and children, commenting on the fact that in order for humanity to survive, all must be sacrificed. No life is worth more or less than another, and when we are faced with demise, we all become equal. At death’s door, it doesn’t matter who you are, who you were, or who you might become. What matters is what you do with the knowledge that any breath can be your last, and how you choose to apply what conviction you have left. 

I can say more about how NGE comments on the human mind when considering the series as a whole, but in this article can only say so much without spoiling everything. As such, I will leave you with what is written above– warning you that in this, all I have done is scratch the surface as to why NGE is so special. I could go on and on about why you should watch it: because it’s beautiful. Because it's intentional. Because the fights are so well choreographed.  Because the mechs look cool. Because I hate and love the characters. Because I hate and love the angels. Because everything about that show is simultaneously loved and hated. Above are merely themes to draw you in, but again– they are so small in comparison to the themes that can be unveiled by the series as a whole. 

Neon Genesis Evangelion is not just an experience: it is what you think about before you fall asleep at night. It is something that can never happen, but even so, is something exceedingly familiar. I can’t make you watch it, but I’d be damned if I didn’t try.