Shinsekai Yori - 25 [End]

"From the New World"

I'm utterly devastated to see this wonderful, striking, and introspective piece of art go.

Finding a truly satisfying ending to an anime is always difficult. Even my most beloved series have always fallen short by one or two details, or by rushing to the end without letting us digest what it is we've just seen. Having a denouement is just as important as the climax and the resolution, but most series will cram their last episodes with action and plot, rather than let things resolve and have closure at a decent pace. Thankfully, Shinsekai is not one of these series; this episode allows for the much needed moment of retrospect and contemplation to really drive the point home, and thanks to that, Shinsekai Yori will undoubtedly go down as either a masterpiece or as one of the few great triumphs in anime adaptations in recent years. Of course, that doesn't make me feel any less sad about the fact that it has ended. From the moment I curiously tried the first episode until this last Friday, I had one of the most intense anime viewing experiences of my life, and I thank the studio and Yuusuke Kishi ardently for it.

If I were to be picky, the one negative I could point out about this finale is the way in which the "Fiend" was finally defeated. This was never the type of series to back out of a difficult situation, and despite being an innocent, brainwashed child, Maria and Mamoru's daughter (confirmed in the Japanese, as far as I could tell) was far too dangerous to let live. However her death occurred almost too quickly, in a heartbeat before the episode was even five minutes in. It was almost anti-climactic, jarringly sudden, to watch her and Kiroumaru both fall after his suicide charge. Yet there was also no reason to drag it out longer than it had to; once Saki and the others understood their one chance for survival, all that was left was to act it out. Kiroumaru died a noble death as a noble man, a sacrifice to induce death feedback in the little girl who believed she was a bakenezumi and would have rid the planet of her own kind if left unchecked.

Other than this somewhat awkward moment, everything proceeded as it should have. Saki and Satoru return to Kamisu 66 with the rest of the surviving humans, where Yakomaru is tried for his war crimes. As slimy and manipulative an individual as he is, I still understand how and why he went about doing what he did and I still reel in indignation at the unbridled hubris of the Cantus users. Even after a mere army of bakenezumi nearly destroyed every PK user on the face of the planet, the humans have the audacity to laugh at Squealer's humiliation and cries of equality and to subjugate him to brutal torture despite having been guilty of equally hideous crimes while the bakenezumi were enslaved under them. Even had the bakenezumi not turned out to be human beings, they were nevertheless sentient and alive, and they proved their intelligence more than on one occasion. This is why it feels so gratifying to see Saki spare not only Squealer, but also more than one clan that remained loyal to the humans. While it's far from equality, Saki at least takes the first step in acknowledging the bakenezumi as people far before Satoru tells her the truth about their chromosomes.

As for Saki and Satoru themselves, I had a silly grin on my face watching them get married, though I would have been much happier had their relationship not mysteriously melted away for most of their adult lives. Still, knowing that they end up together regardless is gratifying, and it's really a beautiful triumph of friendship and love that this ends up being the case. While both of them are still caught up in the traditions and rules of the village, they at least know the limitations of that approach, and they understand the truths of their existence better than most. Saki's warning letter, the hopes they both hold for their unborn child, everything exudes a wonderful sense of optimism that perhaps things will change for the better.

The entire closing sequence is gorgeous and emotional, alternating the beautiful landscapes that Shinsekai is so adept at with a montage of those who have been lost, all playing out to the "New World Symphony" to great symbolic effect. Yet for me the very last moments of the series are ominous and sinister, with the laughter of children echoing in the school hallways and a pan on a plaque that reads "the power of imagination changes everything"; after all, PK users are not free of the threat of their children yet, and as much as Saki and Satoru might hope that everything will turn out for the best, nothing is set in stone. Imagination can bring about wondrous things, but it's also what allowed Squealer to dream of overthrowing his oppressors, what leaked out of Karma Demons' control, and what allowed Maria and Mamoru's daughter to believe she wasn't human. The fact that this is how the series chooses to end really proves that Shinsekai isn't afraid to go dark places, even to the very last scene.

N.B.: Thanks to Ivan for his consistently great work at screencapping this series; I know he'll miss it as much as I will.