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!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we are concluding Nadeko’s quest to pull herself back together, and hopefully come to love all the divergent personas that brought her to this point. Having recaptured Flirty Nadeko and Wrath Nadeko, she now finds herself facing off with God Nadeko, the medusa that once threatened all life in her town. With neither Kaiki’s guidance nor Yotsugi’s Unlimited Rulebook to assist her, she will have to confront one of the most powerful creatures in Monogatari history, and somehow convince her to help with Nadeko’s embarrassing romance manga.

It’s not unusual to come to hate your own past self. In fact, it can often be quite comforting to blame your former identity for all the failings of your current life, or to at least feel embarrassed regarding the ignorance, insecurity, or audacity that inspired your prior forms of self-expression. The passion that inspired one era of your life can seem embarrassing or naive from a further vantage point – but as Kaiki told Nadeko once before, passion is inherently embarrassing. Commitment is embarrassing. Staking your claim in the world, stating what you truly desire and how hard you’d work to acquire it, is always kinda embarrassing. We cling to indifference or even nihilism as defensive measures, knowing only that to admit we care is to invite mockery, to let others poke holes in our shameful ambitions.

But that’s no way to live. To truly thrive we must embrace the embarrassment of committing fully to our passions, and to understand ourselves we must forgive and embrace our past selves, knowing that their passion is still a part of us. The girl who used meekness as a shield, the girl who danced for the crowd’s applause, the girl who hated that crowd for their shallow adoration – all of those were earnest forms of Nadeko, each trying their best to get along in a world that tells us the only true crime is to wear no mask at all. If Nadeko wants to create stories that speak from the heart, she must first learn to embrace her own – and in forgiving these rambling Nadekos, she might just see the path forward a little more clearly. Let’s return to the final battle!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re diving back into the rambling escapades of Monogatari’s Off Season, as Nadeko continues her quest to pull herself back together. Having created four doppelgangers to assist with her manga practice, our would-be artist is now chasing them halfway across town, hoping to reseal them in ink before they destroy her life entirely. So far she’s recaptured both Flirty and Wrath Nadeko, but the unlikely alliance of Meek and God Nadeko promises to be the most trouble by far.

Alongside physically besting these Nadekos, this journey is of course also a psychological gauntlet. Confronted by these prior identities who are doing their best to live their own lives, can Nadeko still say her pursuit of manga is the most meaningful, “authentic” path she could pursue? And what’s more, can she do that while acknowledging that these reflections are all still a part of her – her eagerness to please, her need to be loved, her resentment at being typecast, her desire for control and revenge? It’s been hard for even Monogatari’s most self-aware characters to acknowledge their uncharitable instincts, but if Nadeko is to move forward with confidence, she must do so while embracing the fullness of her emotions, rather than simply adopting the clothes and mannerisms she finds suitable to her latest persona. She must accept her truth, embarrassing as it may be – after all, didn’t Kaiki say that creating art is inherently embarrassing?

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re diving back into Monogatari’s Off Season, as we explore Nadeko’s continuing efforts to pull herself back together. Having embraced Yotsugi’s brilliant idea of dividing her manga labors between four shikigami doppelgangers, Nadeko swiftly discovered that her old selves are an unruly bunch, and none of them have any interest in practicing drafting. Instead, they’re now rampaging all about the town, causing all manner of havoc for our unfortunate Current Nadeko to clean up.

It’s a pretty classic Monogatari problem: you hide the disliked aspects of yourself for long enough, and eventually they break free and run wild, demanding you acknowledge your full, unflattering identity for what it is. Nadeko’s numerous doppelgangers reflect her tendency to dramatically reinvent herself, to fully reject an old persona and embrace one she believes will make her happier. Given this tendency, it’s little wonder she has trouble truly believing in her current identity either, and was thus so shaken by her parents’ ultimatum. Like so many of Monogatari’s heroes, she must learn to embrace and forgive herself – to acknowledge that all these fragmentary selves are indeed sincere aspects of her identity, and that she should not be ashamed of either previously embodying them or now hoping to move beyond them. With Ougi’s needling “if you were happy, you wouldn’t seek such lofty dreams” and Sodachi’s well-intentioned “the world won’t end if you’re not sure what to do” both ringing in her mind, let’s return to the trials of Sengoku Nadeko!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re returning to Monogatari’s Off Season, as Isin continues to explore the wandering lives of Araragi’s various associates. Isin has clearly found an effective way to have his cake and eat it too, as Monogatari already arrived at a thematically cohesive conclusion back during Final Season, yet charting these continuing adventures nonetheless also fits within the show’s general philosophy. After all, one of the major points of Monogatari is that people are not fixed points, and our psychological development does not comprise clean, conclusive emotional arcs. We are all works in progress, liable to backslide or be stymied by new challenges, and exploring these Hanamonogatari-esque further hurdles has given the franchise life beyond its original protagonist.

With Yotsugi’s self-inflicted crisis now presumably handled, it seems we are turning to Nadeko, who has become something of a shut-in now that she’s found a passion worth pursuing, a source of pride that embodies her chosen identity, rather than the persona initially foisted upon her. Though Kaiki did a magnificent job back in Hitagi End, one push in the right direction does not a self-actualized person make, so I’m guessing we’ll still be grappling with Nadeko’s relatively unmoored sense of self. Let’s see how our passionate young mangaka is faring!

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