A week before catching up on Evangelion, I also happened to finish reading Haruki Murakami’s novel Norwegian Wood. Why I suddenly started reading literature on a whim is a story for another time. But more than that, I am surprised I actually managed to watch Eva from beginning to end.
In Norwegian Wood, Watanabe tries to understand Naoko, dedicating effort and emotion to her, yet still fails to change anything. In Eva, Shinji desperately longs to be accepted by others, but when given the chance to eliminate the A.T. Field (the wall of the heart) and put an end to everything causing him pain, he refuses. Asuka also reminds me of someone from my past. What that friend did back then was as irredeemable as what I did, and I prefer not to bring it up again. But that didn’t stop me from finally understanding the reasons behind it when Eva triggered those memories five or six years later.
I agree with what these two creators (from my personal perspective) are trying to convey: it is impossible for humans to innately understand one another, and it is only natural that humans will get hurt because they crave to be understood. People are independent individuals with differences and flaws. It is entirely possible to approach someone with good intentions, only to end up hurting each other and innocent bystanders. Yet, ultimately, humans cannot survive solely as isolated individuals detached from others. Like fate, the pain born from contacting others is inevitable; its existence does not appear or vanish simply because one side wills it to.
To this, Haruki Murakami’s solution is: If you can’t understand it, just stop trying to understand it. There’s nothing wrong with not understanding.
I am now convinced that, up until the very end, we never held any malice toward each other. I accept that this is simply one possible outcome of trying to reach out to someone, and I accept the fact that pain is not a price to be paid, but rather a process. Realizing this, I have completely let it go. Whether I like it or not, I have to admit that no matter how badly I get hurt, as long as I am alive, I will always crave attention, warmth, and understanding from others.
I have never been very good at taking the initiative to get close to anyone, unless we interact frequently or share a purely non-social reason (like academics or music). Even when I’ve done something wrong, I often don’t dare to apologize, fearing that the apology itself might anger the other person further. This is precisely how the “wall of the heart” manifests in me. I can’t clearly articulate what separates me from others, but I am used to running away from problems, and when issues arise, I never dare to make the first move to solve them.
Why not take the initiative? I think I am just like Shinji. Seeing so many people criticizing him actually made me feel relieved. He deserves to be harshly scolded—both him and me. We both secretly hope that when we deny our own worth in front of others, a firm voice will intervene and tell us, “You are still needed.” But this is nothing more than surrendering the right to actively solve problems, simply because we are terrified of facing failure and terrified of not being needed.
Hideaki Anno’s solution to this same overarching theme, in my eyes, differs from Murakami’s: he tells me to drop the delusions early on and stop running away, because it’s useless. Even if understanding others is incredibly difficult and perhaps forever impossible, you cannot allow yourself to live in regret. You still have to make the choice yourself.