Monogatari Series

Just when we thought the darkness menacing the town had been identified, named, and tamed, clear and unclear mysteries of seasons past looming or surfacing, then resolving, not without tears, not without bittersweetness, of course, but satisfyingly, in a tripartite finale, all loose ends tied up into, or at least with, a bow…

The End Tale continues—if only for one last time, in a bonus stage for the ages, as our softie of a protagonist who wished for all parties involved, including himself, maturely enough, to end up happy, sees his reflected image freeze in a mirror and regretfully, regrettably, reaches for it to find himself through the looking glass.

In an alternate reality where bits of the world have been flipped around, the hero comes face to face with the hidden side(s) of familiar faces, along with author NISIOISIN, whose bravura attempt to reimagine character possibilities concludes, with signature flair, the MONOGATARI series proper—thank you for reading.

From the best selling novel series comes the latest book of the final season of the Monogatari Series.

No good deed goes unpunished, they say, and so does friendship and lowering your intensity as a human, they don’t say—alas, for all his literally painful hustle and inveterate need to save others, our brave fool of a hero ends up in hell, a conception of the inferno in its full Buddhist glory, and muses (lol) if there’s a return ticket.
Told in three chapters, the final part of End Tale concludes the story proper and resolves the series’ panoply of ongoing mysteries: the dues of a do-gooder for relying on a power not his own, the identity of a shady transfer student, the outcome of a class president’s questing abroad, and even the true name of a park.
Araragi, indeed, is the one who knows, but along the way he meets old faces, really every last one of them, who aid him on his journey for understanding, and perhaps for salvation, and you for one might not be surprised if he had another rendezvous with an erstwhile “cloistered princess” before it—guess what it is—sees an end.

From the best selling novel series comes the latest book of the final season of the Monogatari Series.

When an old flame who gave up on life and chose to go up in flames—because he wanted to leave you but couldn’t—comes crawling back after four hundred years, you might not appreciate it, especially if you’re in a new relationship. But nothing’s ever simple between people, and that’s even truer between monsters.
For the first time in months, our heroic loser Araragi is human, parted by previous events from the ex-legendary vampire bound to his shadow. Before he, the second-ever thrall of the former Kissshot, can resume his partnership with the donut-loving waif that she’s turned into, she must make a choice—about that first-ever. 
Before the End Tale can end, some loose ends must be tied, and in this volume, the fixer Gaen calls in her favor, requesting an introduction to her niece; the errand of the amulet that Araragi ran with Kanbaru comes into crisp focus; and the time-traveling and -spanning Dandy and Demon Tales see their devastating resolution.

From the best selling novel series comes the latest book of the final season of the Monogatari Series.

Before we witness the series’ climactic showdown in the third volume of the End Tale—each part of which forms its own cohesive whole—narrator Araragi wrestles with a crucial bit of history that had turned him into the loner we met at the very beginning, who opined that friendships only lowered his
intensity as a human.
What initiates his pilgrim’s progress of a reckoning is his first encounter, at school, with the mysterious freshman Ogi Oshino, self-described niece of the equally enigmatic aberration expert Mèmè, and the book’s opening chapter is a harrowing standalone novella of a who-dunit involving a locked room of sorts.
Our increasingly well-adjusted hero kept on beingdecent at one thing even when he was just hanging on, but this forte, an unlikely aptitude for math, of all things, becomes the focus of a cheating scandal and a web of recollections that forces him to come to terms with, what do you know, his capacity to connect to people.

In this latter half of Calendar Tale, a set of journeys into the past that have been revisiting the “case files” feel of the series’ origins starts to catch up to the present moment until we are violently spliced back into the overarching plot, just in time for the final quartet that is the End Tale (in three volumes) and End Tale (Cont.).

Continuing with the motif of ways, paths, roads, and streets, and wrapping up sundry other topics and quasi-philosophical concerns, the vignettes for the months of October to March deal with six ladies who are either not quite human or older than titular narrator Koyomi Araragi, bless his bantering soul.

In this installment, see how he handles—or is handled by—aberration of a little sister Tsukihi, enigma of a freshman or -woman Ogi, shadow of a legendary vampire Shinobu, corpse of a tween girl Ononoki, psychopath of a monster expert Kagenui, and know-it-all of a Machiavellian fixer Izuko Gaen.

Presented in two parts with covers that will form a diptych, Calendar Tale, narrated by our titular hero, sends us to various earlier points in the story where certain events had yet to occur—when, for instance, the shady “expert” Oshino was still in town, and the ex-legendary vampire Shinobu hadn’t tired of sulking in a corner.
Weaving in a motif of ways, paths, roads, and streets—walks of life—the nostalgic vignettes hark back to the “case files” feel of the series-launching Monster Tale, but with a twist. Not all oddities are supernatural: stones and flowers; sand and water; the wind and the tree can just be plain weird without being aberrations.
In this installment, say hello from the future to class president among class presidents Hanekawa, acid-tongued girlfriend Senjogahara, cheeky lost child Hachikuji, smutty athlete Kanbaru, pathologically shy Sengoku, and justice-loving martial artist Karen, young ladies who love to make our young man sweat.

Launching the third or “Final Season” of the international cult-hit series, Possession Tale returns the narrator’s headset back to high school senior and amateur savior Koyomi Araragi, who used to eschew friendship once upon a time because it’d lower his “intensity as a human”—a loner’s misgiving that was perhaps on the mark in a different way than he intended.
At issue now is not the precarious fate of one of his cherished confrères, or rather consœurs, whom he’d aid, sight unseen, with a monster’s resilience, but his own aberrant state and its prolonged abuse. If everything comes with a bill, and if no man is an island, then is the price of self-sacrificing amity—and the bloodshed it ironically occasions—becoming inhuman for good?
That being said! Our hero, whose first name means “calendar” but who has none in his room, sees no need to rush, so, on our way to the profound mysteries of the superhuman aspect, expect a super-shallow deconstruction of the alarm clock. On hand this volume to (hardly ever) humor his humor: his little sisters, a living doll of a corpse, and its violent mistress.

Circling back to a middle school girl’s apotheosis, if we can call it that, in Otorimonogatari, and the mortal threat it poses to the hero and his girl, this “Season Two” finale is narrated, for the first time in the series, by a grown-up—but if the word conjures a sense of reliability, of stability and certainty to you, dear reader, then the lesson to take home from this is to trust no one.

Because the teller of the tale, who has been summoned by the heroine to defuse the situation, despite having been her nemesis since the very outset of the series, is—in the absence of the equally shady adult, Oshino, who at least was an expert—none other than his college frenemy, the fake ghostbuster who doesn’t believe in ghosts, the shameless swindler Deishu Kaiki.

And it is indeed a con that he agrees to perpetrate, uncharacteristically pro bono, on a wrathful god—a mythic undertaking if true, which it may be, when a liar among liars holds that his story, like any other, is all a lie. But maybe not, when a man who claims to be wise in the ways of the world sounds just as self-conscious as his adolescent counterparts or a Russian anti-hero.

It, like the dark that makes up most of the cosmos, is not an aberration. Nonbeing can swallow you whole, yet if anything, it’s the anti-aberration. Darkness, in fact, is the Law, an executioner from whom a mark can try to run and hide, but only for so long. When it comes calling, the fortunate just might have the time to say goodbye. And the Darkness is—here now.
Before ever visiting Japan to find a place to die, four centuries, indeed, before her failed suicide attempt, the legendary vampire Kissshot literally stepped foot on the land of the rising sun with an epic jump that ended a lonely sojourn in Antarctica. It was back in those days that the proud noble created her first thrall. It was then, too, that she first met the Darkness.
Having messed with a more recent past with her help, and returning to the present to reunite with two more characters that look like little girls but are actually his elders, Thrall No. 2 Araragi reclaims the mic only to cede it in large part to the bloodsucking demon who goes by “Shinobu” these days. Her story, though, may not even be the most poignant one told herein.

A certain middle school girl has a fondness for hats, which serve as a line of defense against eye contact along with the overlong bangs she’s worn ever since she was little. Speaking in fits and starts when she doesn’t fall completely silent, her go-to line is “I’m sorry,” and she’s given to referring to herself in third person. Nadeko Sengoku is pretty, and not just cute.

When a jealous classmate tried to hex her with a fraudulent charm, Miss Bangs went and got cursed in earnest all by herself, having done her homework wrong and performed a gruesome ritual at a forgotten shrine. Thank goodness Big Brother Koyomi noticed and rescued her that time, but chopping up snakes at a place of worship that was dedicated to a serpent…

It might come back to bite her again, hmmmm? Hoping to be saved by someone, but unable to ask for help, the shyest member of the cast explores a running theme of these tales in her own halting voice this round: While self-reliance is well and good, beware of its debased counterfeit minted from a mere reluctance to connect with others. You know what I mean?

Our sorry hero, his reformed girlfriend, and the amnesiac class president have all graduated from their high school out in the boondocks, and self-described Sapphist and ex-basketball ace Kanbaru, retired by reason of an “injury,” is starting her senior year and the narrator of this volume—her voice far more introspectivethan the smutty jock’s we thought we knew.

Bereft of the company of her beloved mentors, the only other person around her with any working knowledge of aberrations the junior Ogi Oshino, apparently a relative of the Hawaiian-shirted folklorist, she feels a bit alone and blue, and sick with dread that the devil residing in her left arm courtesy of the Monkey’s Paw might act up again while she sleeps.

Investigating a rumor that she fears might lead back to her, the former star ends up peering into an abyss of negativity called Roka—a “wax flower” to take the characters’ meaning. Trapped in a pit the like of which could only be escaped by the one girl who was able to pull off slam-dunks in her basketball nationals, can the penitent Kanbaru, however, still be aggressive?

How far does one go to help a lost child? In the case of returning narrator Araragi, the answer is too far, across the veil of time. Dutifully (if unknowingly) following up on Hachikuji’s cheeky foreshadowing, he concerns himself with his young lady friend and her fate in this installment of the cult-hit series, heroically unable, once again, to find his own way home.

Thus the tale is also, or more so, about the journey itself, the dark honeymoon of a trip he takes into the past with the dweller in his shadow, Shinobu. Even among a cast that routinely disrespects chronology with their meta-commentary, she takes the cake, or the donut, by rewinding the clock for a perverse road movie, one that by and large goes nowhere, spatially.

It’s Kabuki not as in the theater, but with the character for “tilt”—as in a slanted attitude toward the world, the posture of a bohemian. Or, perhaps, of a legendary vampire who once sought death, and of a high school senior who once tuned out life doing their dandy best to attend to an embarrassing wealth of aberrations in a provincial town.

Launching into new territory that the author hadn’t mapped out when he embarked on the series, NEKOMONOGATARI (White) tells the tale of heroine Tsubasa Hanekawa from her own perspective, in her own voice—if that can hold true for a damaged soul who, depending on who you’re asking, suffers from a split personality or a supernatural aberration.

The bone-chilling brokenness of her household, where father and mother and daughter keep three separate sets of cookware in the same kitchen and only ever prepare their own meals, and the profound darkness nurtured in the genius schoolgirl’s heart, come to life, if that is the word, through her self-vivisection.

As for our customary unreliable narrator, Araragi, we seem to learn revealing tidbits about him now that we have an outside view of him at last, while his lady friends Senjogahara, Hachikuji, et al, freed from his predilection for proudly inane banter, show subtly new faces to us via their female interlocutor. Welcome to the Second Season.

Following up on the high note of family ties on which the previous installment concluded, but preceding it chronologically, we find Araragi and his little sister Tsukihi, the heroine of the last volume, in full sibling rivalry mode as they bicker about love. The conversation that cannot end unfolds in its unabashed original glory herein.

Like KIZUMONOGATARI, which delved into our narrator’s disastrous spring break, Cat Tale (Black) is a prequel about another catastrophe, mentioned often yet never recounted even in a foregoing chapter dedicated to Miss H.: namely, the model student’s rampage over Golden Week, a string of holidays starting at the end of April.

Closing out what has come to be known as the “First Season” of the series, this episode of ’GATARI, as rich as ever in silly banter and poignant profundities, richer than usual in snide meta comments about the anime, will make you laugh and cry, or just put a grownup smile on your face, maybe, but is guaranteed to stay with you forever.

Originally planned to be the series’ conclusion, “final” chapter “Tsukihi Phoenix” invites us back to the seemingly eventless country burg where supernatural afflictions abound and characters change their trademark hairstyles at the drop of a hat. Rest assured, dear reader, that the story continued in Japanese and will do so in translation.

In the first half of Fake Tale, lost soul Araragi helped resolve his bigger little sister Karen’s feverish run-in with a fraud. In this second half, he must attend to his littler little sister Tsukihi’s issues, but not before staging the Toothbrush Episode that the acclaimed anime adaptation’s viewers find quite memorable—whether they like to or not.

As fraught with ominousness as a dark empty street, as unexpectedly full of feeling as an acid-tongued girlfriend, as sidesplittingly funny as a horny retired jock, and (maybe even) as educational as college in the best MONOGATARI tradition, this volume also introduces us to “ghostbusters” Yozuru Kagenui and Yotsugi Ononoki.