Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re returning back to Monogatari’s wandering supplementary stories, as Nadeko’s adventures in identity-forming give way to some kind of sprawling Shinobu saga. As a pair, the two arcs seem likely to illustrate the far poles of Monogatari’s fables. Though it involved a great number of magical doppelgangers, Nadeko’s story was ultimately all about her personal psychology, grappling with the fundamental question of how our evolving senses of self square with the ostensibly stable trajectory of a specific life goal. By embracing the legitimacy and lingering truth of her old personas, Nadeko committed herself to moving forward without rejecting the past, finding personal insight and even community in her past selves.
In contrast, Shinobu’s stories are often Monogatari’s most fanciful, leaning into alternate realities, supernatural threats, and generally external conflict in all its manifestations. It seems appropriate then that we are opening with what is billed as “A Cruel Fairy Tale,” the latest of Monogatari’s frequent story-in-story digressions, complete with its own studio, adaptation team, and presumably novel aesthetic. If there’s one thing Isin loves more than stories about people, it’s stories about stories. Let’s get to it!
Episode 6.5
An intriguing aesthetic vocabulary right from the start, as a prologue is presented through individual characters springing out from vertical branches. The words are like reeds or the delicate spring metalworking of a music box, which seems appropriate, given the backing music is also a tinkling music box melody
“The story I’m about to tell you actually happened 600 years ago, but I’d like you to listen as if it was fiction. Because it happened too far in the past to be realistic, and a story like this with no morals or salvation is better off left as a lie.” A warning that falls perfectly in line with Monogatari’s general preoccupations, emphasizing how terms like “real” and “fake” have values beyond conveying the theoretical authenticity of some concept. Framing a story as a fiction can be a way of shielding yourself against its moral implications – a clumsy story with no moral is no more than an idle fantasy, whereas a similar truth might inform or guide our beliefs and subsequent behavior. At the same time, it could be said that we more closely attend to fairy tales or personal interpretations than historical records, meaning “fake” stories can often have more of a lasting impact than truths
We cut from there to graceful CG imitations of shadow puppets courtesy of studio LUDENS, echoing the beautiful style used in Hanamonogatari. As I said, Isin is eternally preoccupied with the artifice of storytelling itself, how things like tone, format, or the identity of the speaker can influence the nature and power of a narrative. Embracing such ostentatious visual ornamentations as these makes that ambiguity inescapable for the audience, forcing us to be constantly aware of the fact that a specific speaker is telling us their specific version of a particular tale, not any sort of “objective” truth
“About six hundred years ago, in a country that no longer leaves a name anywhere in this world, there was a very beautiful girl.”
They’re doing a fine job of simulating movement into depth through the management of focal length across these implied layers of leaves. Artifice within artifice, an approximation of cut-paper shadow puppets that are themselves conveying an approximation of a far-off country
The music box motif carries through to the next composition, where this girl is framed as a raised metal inlay within an ornate floral frame that could easily be found on such a box
“She was so beautiful that a portrait of her was framed in every household.” An idol, not a person. Echoes of Shinobu describing her first visit to Japan, how she was revered as a god and fell into indolence alongside her acolytes. This resonates with a general Monogatari theme – the danger of passionate, selfless love, how love can become a poison for characters like Nadeko or Hanekawa
The emperor granted her the title of “Beautiful Princess” for her beauty alone
Nice texturing effects and overall composition for these sequences of the camera panning through an ostensible cut-paper village. This is a use of CG I can appreciate – if you’re going to rely on CG, do something interesting with it aesthetically, don’t just use it to cut corners. CG has strengths (like this ability to pan directly through a crowd of flat characters each with their own light-derived shadows), employ them!
“I turned your beauty into a song,” “I turned your beauty into a poem.” All of her suitors attempt to capture her beauty in some sort of frame
“‘Nobody looks at me,’ the princess lamented all alone in her room. ‘They all sing praises, but they say nothing more.’” Her beauty is a curse, so grand and all-consuming it prevents her from genuinely interacting with others as individuals. To be worshipped is not to be known, and if all you can find is worship, you will be very lonely indeed. Again, a Kiss-Shot lament we’ve seen before
“No matter what she does, no matter what she says, the response is simply ‘Beautiful.’” This also echoes Nadeko’s original situation, how she was perpetually forgiven as a cute victim but never respected or engaged with as an actual person
“Whatever she did, the result was the same.” To be defined by an attribute beyond your control is a prison, even if it’s an ostensibly positive, praiseworthy attribute
“At this rate, it wouldn’t matter whether or not I have my own will. Beauty I just happened to be born into is nothing but a hindrance.”
An old witch heard her plea to be recognized for her soul rather than her beauty, and offers to make her beauty transparent, “so no one will see it”
“From now on, your soul will be what they judge.” A dubious bargain. Is the color of our soul any more within our power than the beauty of our face? This is why masks and personas, lies and fakes, all of them are so crucial – because the truth we choose to present, or rather the mask we put on, demonstrates more intentionality, will, and ultimately “true personhood” than the unruly, ungenerous raw materials of our heart’s desires. It is not a lie to try and act more kindly than we actually feel – our intention to be better is a genuine part of us, and following that “lie” is the only way we can grow into the people we want to be
“The princess’s soul proved to be even more beautiful”
“The princess’s father threw himself off a balcony as punishment for not recognizing her beautiful soul.” Too much adulation is always a curse. Nothing should be loved absolutely, without question or nuance
Her mother also passed away, content with bringing such beauty into the world. Perfection is a curse – achieving it should be impossible, because once achieved, it leaves all else in life hollow
The artists as well sacrifice the biological tools of their passions, certain nothing but the loss of what they hold most dear could possibly compare to the princess’s beauty. Their idol is so far away they can no longer hope to approach her through their own faculties, and instead sacrifice those faculties, abandoning their ability to conjure beauty in the face of such an overwhelming exemplar
In the face of such beauty, all sacrificed themselves. An Oscar Wilde-style fairy tale, heavy on the self-destructive foolishness of mankind, yet conveyed with such a whimsical tone that it seems almost a comedy. Many of us are indeed looking for a pyre on which to throw ourselves, an ideal that can better embody the rapture we seek. Worship and sacrifice are inextricably linked
“The princess sought out the old witch to have her magic dispelled.” A twist on the usual “be careful what you wish for” that feels particularly appropriate for Monogatari, given Araragi’s fatal flaw was his outrageously self-sacrificing nature. We all need a little ego, a little selfishness, or we risk becoming either like this princess or like her foolish followers. “Embracing the sincerity in the ungenerous parts of your heart” is something many Monogatari characters have been forced to do, with even Nadeko’s most recent adventure following something like that model
But the witch had already sacrificed her head to the princess’s beautiful soul. “A curse can be stronger than its creator” is something many Monogatari characters have also come to know well
This cut-paper aesthetic also reminds me of Ryoko’s backstory from Madoka, a similar tale of worship courting destruction
“She could not die. The strength of the princess’s will did not allow for that.”
“Someday, you may be able to save those who die from your beautiful soul that is beyond enchanting. Until then, you need to keep distancing yourself from other people. Do not get close to anyone. You shall live alone.”
“A solitary journey to escape it all, where she cannot have any companions. It would be a while longer yet before she turns into a vampire.” So Kiss-Shot’s toxic allure actually preceded her identity as a vampire
It would be six hundred years before she could actually save someone
And Done
Ah, the tragic majesty of Nisio Isin’s fairy tales. As our narrator said, this was an unfortunate story with no moral – Kiss-Shot was simply born entrancing, without the ability to even stop others from worshipping her. Of course, it’s the stories without the clear moral lessons that are actually the ones most likely to teach us anything. A purely straightforward, didactic fable only tells you what the storyteller wants you to believe – a story rich in moral ambiguity, where no clear answers can be found, asks us to divine our own lessons from the tale, and thereby perhaps learn something about ourselves. This tale of Kiss-Shot’s origins echoes both her future trials and the unhappy lessons of Monogatari more generally, and I’m looking forward to whatever gothic melancholies await us next!
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