Another anime song post? What can I do—recently in Shanghai, because I didn’t have speakers and for other reasons, I haven’t really been listening to music at all, and the only melodies I could summon up from memory just happened to be anime songs.
I was reminded of EVA that day when I went to a relative’s house and saw the latest domestic animated film, “Qin Shi Mingyue.” Its gaudy 3D visuals only served to throw its shallowness into sharper relief; if this animation has made any progress at all, I’m afraid it is progress in a disappointing direction. Thinking of the difference between Chinese and Japanese animation, I couldn’t help but think of EVA. The first time I saw EVA was probably the imported version I watched in middle school, and I didn’t get to see all of it (the version imported in the first place was incomplete anyway; the “very yellow, very violent” parts were all cut). Later I downloaded it and watched it in my freshman year.
If you also watch Japanese animation, I have many recommendations—classic series, very yellow series, very violent series, mysterious and arcane series, sci-fi series, mecha-and-armor series, and so on. No matter which series you put EVA in, it probably wouldn’t make my top three. But if you never watch Japanese animation—not counting those films that can be imported into China—and if, in order to know what Japanese animation is all about, you are only willing to watch one anime, then watch EVA!
From any angle, EVA is not the best anime work, but it is undeniably a landmark. For Japan, it was a turning point in anime history—pre-EVA and post-EVA became different eras; for China, it marks the gap between Chinese animation and Japanese animation. If you have seen EVA, no matter what your evaluation of Japanese animation is, you must at least admit this: that kind of “cartoon” is almost a different concept altogether from what Chinese people understand by a cartoon, just like a news program and a variety show—though both use television as their medium, their content and meaning cannot be conflated.
What is surprising, however, is that China actually imported EVA, heavily censored it, had the theme song re-sung, and even changed the title.
The translation “Heavenly Eagle Warriors” and the Chinese theme song, a work so transcendent it can only be called genius, have long been a laughingstock among anime fans. Still, I have to bring up this alteration once more, because it is simply too typical and fully capable of reflecting the difference between Chinese and Japanese understandings of animation.
Although we more often see mockery of “Heavenly Eagle Warriors,” outside the internet—especially among those who do not know the original Japanese version very well—the changes made to “Heavenly Eagle Warriors” are still fairly welcomed. Compare “Gospel” with “Heavenly Eagle,” compare “cruel angel” with “beautiful angel”: which is more suitable for children? Which is more positive, more vigorous and full of life? Of course the latter.
EVA is of course not suitable for children. And that is precisely the most fundamental difference between the two views of anime—Chinese people think animation is for children, but Japanese animation is not.
Of course, children can watch EVA too. In fact, a child is absolutely incapable of understanding the gloom and mystery in EVA; in a child’s eyes, EVA will automatically be filtered into Heavenly Eagle Warriors, and there is no need to censor it deliberately at all. What children cannot understand is often automatically screened out, and those Chinese parents who act as gatekeepers for children are nothing more than manually adding one more layer of screening from the child’s point of view. Apart from declaring that their own thinking still remains at the stage of childhood, this is merely superfluous.
Japan also has animation specifically designed for children, such as the Ultraman series and the like. But most of the animated works—the ones I watch now—are for neither children nor “parents,” but for young people.
China has animation for children, and television dramas for “adults,” but it has left a huge gap right in the middle—nothing for young people.
Martial-arts films may perhaps suit young people; martial-arts culture also counts as a Chinese characteristic. Yet apart from a small number of works such as those by Jin Yong, most martial-arts films are nothing more than fairy tales with a slightly higher grade. The power of commerce, and the Gresham’s-law effect by which bad money drives out good, means that the mass-produced trash occupies the market; this is the same predicament faced by the film industry. Animation, though also governed by commercial rules, is in a relatively better position because animated production is comparatively cheap, and because comics exist as the soil from which animation grows.
The category of “young people” is fuzzy. From the rebellious phase of thirteen or fourteen all the way to middle-aged and elderly people who still retain a youthful mindset, all are suitable audiences for Japanese animation. What are the characteristics of this group? They are unlike the ignorant innocence of childhood, but also unlike mature “adults”—young people have a strong sense of rebellion and a strong thirst for knowledge; they are full of confusion about the world and themselves; they do not like to be bound by ready-made rules, and long for freedom and independence. Mature “adults,” by contrast, often are no longer confused, nor do they cling to inquiry; regarding the world and themselves, they either already have ready-made answers, or simply can’t be bothered to care about those questions anymore.
Whether it is thinking about serious questions, or pure entertainment and the pursuit of stimulation, young people’s enthusiasm is always higher than that of “adults.” Programs that are suitable for adults to pass the time and amuse themselves often strike young people as neither exciting enough nor profound enough—in short, dull.
I am saying that for young people to watch animation is far more profound and serious than for “adults” to watch television dramas, and many people probably won’t be able to make sense of this claim. But the logic is actually quite obvious: compare the courses high school and college students study every day, the books they read, with the things those “parents” read (if they are still reading at all). Which set is more profound, more serious? “Adults” often lose the spontaneous thirst for knowledge and sharp insight they had when they were young. A body of knowledge that a student once studied with great relish is hard to keep interesting in middle age unless one becomes a scholar; this is certainly not because those subjects once found interesting are too childish or too superficial. Rather, it is precisely because they are too profound and too serious, and thus the “adults,” who are too lazy to think and too busy “living,” can no longer immerse themselves in them.
So isn’t it only natural to say: some programs that are suitable for young people but not for “adults” are not childish and superficial at all, but precisely profound and serious? The reason “adults” are no longer interested is that their passion for life, for the world, and for knowledge is already gone.
The mark of “young people” is the awakening of self-awareness. In childhood there is still no self-awareness, while “adults” are no longer troubled by the question of “Who am I?” But young people long to find themselves and to establish themselves.
Given the crucial differences between “young people” and both children and “adults,” the entertainment programs suitable for them should of course have corresponding characteristics. But in China, no one has given serious thought to the spiritual needs of people at this stage of growth. In fact, we simply do not care about that stage of rebellion and reflection, or we hope it lasts as briefly as possible—you just need to accept education (indoctrination), then leave childhood and become an adult, and that will do. We only recognize the educated and the educators; we do not recognize those who resist and those who rebel. That is why we cannot understand Japanese animation, cannot stomach its “outrageous deviation from orthodoxy” and “world-weary cynicism,” because we simply lack a youthful perspective. Here, the only people who view and examine animation are children and adults who continue to think like children; we do not look at animation from the standpoint of young people, from a rebellious, reflective, heterodox standpoint, and therefore we cannot understand Japanese animation.
Children’s thinking is simple—justice and evil, beauty and ugliness, good people and bad people, little white rabbits and big gray wolves, princesses and witches, heroes and demons… The world is just this binary, this simple and clear. If one does not go through enough reflection, this binary world will remain for a lifetime. And thus we see how Chinese people, lacking a reflective dimension, distort “philosophy,” and how they depict intellectual history as “two armies facing off.”
Angels are beautiful, boys are brave, the future is bright, and justice will eventually defeat evil—that is the world in a child’s eyes, a simple and illusory world.
The theme song of Heavenly Eagle Warriors描绘了这样的世界：
Beautiful angels call to you from afar
Brave boy, hurry and create a miracle
A gentle wind blows straight toward you
Softly knocking at my heart
A smile appears on your face
Stealing a glance at me
You face everything with calm
All of this is in my eyes
I know you fear nothing
I know you are incomparably steadfast
One day you will discover your power is mighty beyond measure
One day you will discover that you can create miracles
Beautiful angels call to you from afar For tomorrow, boy, hurry and strive
A blue sky holds ideal roaming freely Embrace tomorrow, summon youth overflowing
For tomorrow, please do not hesitate anymore
Brave boy, hurry and create a miracle
This theme song can be used for any domestic animated film, and it can also be used for quite a few Japanese anime, but to use it for EVA is truly the height of irony. Because EVA’s contribution to anime history, its epoch-making significance, lies precisely in its negation of such a world.
Angels are cruel, boys are weak, the future is dark and uncertain, and justice and evil are fundamentally indistinguishable… That is the world EVA presents, and it is also the real world we face.
Perhaps you will say: even if the real world is not ideal, we still ought to guide children to hold fast to ideals and keep that “overflowing youthfulness.” That is true. But confronting a childlike world with a childlike worldview is not bravery or youthfulness; it is merely an escape from the cruel real world. Only when one has learned to face the real world head-on, to face the cruelty of the world, one’s own weakness, the dimness of the future, and the blur between good and evil—only in the face of these facts can one even begin to speak of ideals or lack of ideals, bravery or lack of bravery. Otherwise, you are just deceiving yourself and others.
The original title of EVA is “Neon Genesis Evangelion,” which, translated literally, is “New Century Gospel.” Rendering it in Chinese as “New Century Evangelion Warriors” was probably already a compromise after Heavenly Eagle Warriors. From its title to its entire content, this animation is mysterious, baffling, and obscure; the theme song is of the same style. But whether it is deliberate obscurity or hidden profundity, however you look at it, its mood is always gloomy: (translations of this lyric vary greatly in different versions; in any case, just glancing at a few key phrases will tell you the general mood)
Like that cruel angel
Boy! Become a myth
At this moment, the azure wind
Is gently knocking awake the door of my heart
But you merely gaze at me
Smiling at me
What your fingertips lightly touch is
What I have always passionately pursued
Your eyes, not yet knowing even fate
So pitiable and lovely
But one day you will surely realize
Just behind your back
There exists the wing
That has sprouted for a distant future
The cruel angel’s thesis
You will fly away from the window
The scorching sorrow bursting forth
If you betray your memories
Embrace this universe shining brightly
Boy! Become a myth
Still sleeping
In the cradle of my love
Only you are awakened by the messenger of dreams
The morning is about to come
Upon your slender neck
The moonlight hanging high is reflected
Yet I wish to stop the time of the whole world
And seal you in slumber
If by any chance the encounter of the two of us
Has meaning
Then I am that Bible
Meant to let you know freedom
The cruel angel’s thesis
The tragedy is about to begin
Please hold tight the form of your life
At the moment this dream awakens!
Let loose an incomparably dazzling light
Boy! Become a myth
Human beings weave love
While weaving history
I, still unable to become a goddess
Live on in this way
Why change the title and theme so completely? It is the same as the Chinese attitude toward this world—immersed in a simple, black-and-white fairy-tale world and fleeing from reality. Using the tactic of covering one’s ears and stealing the bell to deceive oneself—just like this kind of animated work, which is clearly meant to emphasize the cruelty of the world, the weakness of human nature, and the darkness and uncertainty of the future, yet is still forcibly labeled with beauty, bravery, and brightness. What is that if not covering one’s ears and stealing the bell, deceiving oneself, hiding things away, calling a deer a horse, wishful thinking, and escaping reality?
It is obvious that Chinese people are simply accustomed to deceiving themselves and escaping reality—if you put a label reading “horse” on a deer, can it become a horse? Can a deer wearing a “horse” label be used to better educate children to learn horseback riding? In order to teach children to ride horses, should we hide all the real horses away so the children never see them?
Of course you can say: there is no need to use anything else to learn how to face the real world. When children grow up, they will naturally enter society and naturally face reality. That is certainly true. But the kind of growth produced this way is one in which a child leaps straight into becoming an “adult,” bypassing the danger of heterodoxy and rebellion, which is exactly what people are happy to see.
If simply growing up and “entering society” is enough to teach one to face reality and understand reality, then philosophy and all activities of inquiry would seem unnecessary. In fact, what “adults” learn is not to face reality, but to learn indifference, evasion, deception, and concealment. Their reason for no longer being confused and no longer asking questions is not that they have solved the problems, but merely that they have learned to throw the problems behind them by means of indifference, avoidance, self-deception, or screening. These techniques for “handling problems” also become the habitual way people deal with new problems. Just look at how officials handle social problems: it is exactly the same as their tricks for dealing with EVA, nothing more than “changing the name,” using beautiful words to “praise” it, “cutting” it, “screening” it, and thus the world becomes beautiful, the future becomes bright, and the brave boys go off to fight with overflowing youthfulness…
Chinese people can only imagine two kinds of people: “adults” and “children,” disciplinarians and the disciplined, adults who weave fairy tales and those who listen to them. The “adults” congratulate themselves on finally having seen through the deception of fairy tales, and so we see “adults” in all sorts of settings proudly showing off their “maturity”—this is fake, that is counterfeit, this is childish, that is deceitful… “Adults” derive satisfaction from exposing lies; they treat those who have not “seen through” things as children, and in the name of the beautiful angel, say that children need discipline, need to be coaxed…
But is there not another possibility: to retain the enthusiasm of childhood while still facing this real and cruel world head-on? Of course, one’s own problems ultimately must be faced by oneself; there is no shortcut. But as a medium for guidance and for stimulating self-reflection, animation may well work quite well.
The battle between justice and evil has already become hackneyed in current Japanese animation. Even those still of the hot-blooded, inspirational type often incorporate elements of irony and world-weary cynicism. Japanese animation includes the most thoroughly “absurd” pure comedies, yet even in those works one can see the spirit of play. Many excellent comic anime are in fact the author’s own form of self-reflection—we see the image of the author (mangaka or anime fan) often projected into them, and the very existence of the anime itself often affirmed by the characters within it; sometimes, what comic anime is mocking is even the entire world of anime and, indeed, the entire world. Self-mockery and self-irony are also forms of self-affirmation and self-examination.
More post-EVA anime further break down the binary opposition between justice and evil, and instead openly present the absurdity of the world, the paradox of truth, and the contradictions of the human heart. Chinese animation praises violence and killing in the name of justice and beauty, and rejects reflection and controversy in the name of bravery and decisiveness. Because in the fairy-tale world truth, goodness, and beauty are so simple and clear, it is of course possible to be “fearless,” “incomparably steadfast,” and “never hesitate again.” But the real world is nothing like that. What do children learn from such animation? Justice and bravery? Clearly not. Violence and thoughtlessness.
We think Japanese animation is full of violence, as if this were enough to exert a bad influence on children’s minds. But in the animation of the EVA and post-EVA era, which seems gloomy and full of violence, what role does violence play? Not the “justice” of Chinese animation, not the “beautiful angels,” either. Violence plays the role of a clown; whether it belongs to justice or evil, violence is always so cruel and ugly, so shocking to the eye, while the human heart is so contradictory and confused, so helpless and small… Compared with the violence in Chinese animation, which is praised and beautified in the name of justice, compared with the Chinese animation that blatantly proclaims, “fear nothing, be incomparably steadfast… one day you will discover your power is mighty beyond measure,” which side is actually more “violent”?
EVA is not trying to promote violence, or to promote negativity, pessimism, weakness, and hesitation; it simply places these things right before your eyes in a glaring, piercing way, so that you may confront yourself through them. In a certain sense, this is similar to the method of “modern art.” Modern art no longer strives to create perfect and harmonious scenes; on the contrary, it insists on placing ugly, false, and dirty scenes in front of you in the most shocking way possible, forcing people to face reality and forcing people to face themselves.
“Self-examination,” or rather “the reflective perspective,” is a feature of Japanese animation. It has not left the fairy-tale world; it still remains within the fairy-tale world, transcending it through play and irony, which is also very similar to the philosophical way.
Facing death is an eternal theme of philosophy, and also an important thread in Japanese culture. Japanese animation still continues the samurai code’s “death frenzy.”
The theme of facing death may of course seem gloomy, but it does not necessarily mean pessimism. Many “adults” simply take avoiding the question of death as what they call being optimistic and positive; but how many people can maintain optimism and ease when directly facing death? At least the “samurai” can. To be brave and positive while facing the fairy-tale world one has woven oneself is probably only a false “optimism” that covers one’s ears and steals the bell; but to remain brave and positive when facing an ugly, hypocritical real world and the cruel, cold reality of death—that alone truly deserves to be called optimism. Of course, I do not fully agree with the Japanese samurai attitude toward death, but at least one thing is certain: they are able to face death honestly. Whatever attitude they choose before death, at the very least they have bravely stood in front of death, and that is already something quite precious.
This issue I’ve chosen EVA’s classic piece of background music, “THANATOS” (the god of death / the impulse toward death)
http://www.studenti.it/download/mp3/cartoon/evangelion/ost2/eva2_17.mp3
July 27, 2008
Latest Comments
- sanghyun2008-07-29 14:36:00 Anonymous 124.205.78.157
I have the complete EVA set, including the first theatrical version.
If senior brother is interested, I can burn you a copy later.
It really is a classic~ - Gubu2008-07-29 20:10:30
Isn’t it easy enough to download the whole set? Of course I’ve already seen the whole set a long time ago, except for the newest theatrical version.
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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