Review - The Moé Manifesto by Patrick W. Galbraith

The Moé Manifesto offers an insider look into the world of otaku and their affection for fictional characters. What for some may be a thing to quickly discard as childish or looser behavior, as exemplified in the book’s introduction with a retelling of a certain sitcom episode, in truth hides nuance. This book seeks to seriously consider the implications of emotional attachment for fictional characters, and to explore why it’s a thing in the first place, by presenting interviews with different people related to the history and world of moé in Japan. It tries to challenge preconceived notions of otaku in the broader culture, and it offers a loose story as told by those knowledgeable about or related to the subject.

The book is fast-paced, and it makes reference to a vast number of works that defined the rise of moé as well as its surrounding discussion, from anime series and visual novels, to books and essays about otaku culture. There’s a lot of context hinted at in The Moé Manifesto that wasn’t entirely explored in it. It’s clear that these should be the next steps for anyone seeking to get a better understanding of moé, anime, and otaku culture after reading it. It’s also worth noting that this book was first published in 2014, which makes it somewhat outdated, especially considering how much the world of anime has evolved in the past 10 years. Anime discourse has only moved forward from what’s presented here, but this remains a good starting point for anyone interested in it, although with some caveats.

While interesting and varied, the interviews tend to be short and don’t delve too deep into any interviewee’s full thoughts on the subject matter. First, I’d argue that the editing resulted in irrelevant bits of interviews being left in; some questions feel like warm up questions to get the conversation going but are not entirely relevant to the contents of the book. Additionally, I feel that Galbraith did not make sufficient follow-up questions during certain chapters, resulting in a few that could and should have been longer. Most critically missing in this book is any intention to do analysis of what the author knows are fringe and controversial views in mainstream culture, namely the attraction of some otaku towards young characters. Not even opposing views within the otaku community are presented as a point of contrast. At least, the contributions of each interviewee are clearly mentioned, so a dedicated reader can know what threads to pull from, if they wish to do so. Personally, I’ll try to follow up by reading Beautiful Fighting Girl by Tamaki Saitō and Otaku: Japan’s Database Animals by Hiroki Azuma.

Finally, I lament that the book ends up being too focused on the male otaku perspective. This is somewhat understandable in the first few chapters that aim to paint a picture of the early days of the culture and the origins of the word otaku itself, but I cannot help but feel like this discussion cannot be fully had by just focusing on male fans and ignoring female fans of the same works when both genders are capable of the same level of fandom and obsession. Is it that they cannot feel the same kinds of emotional attachment as men? Why would that be? References to female fans are made in passing, like in the interview with Kimio Ito, but in my opinion, they’re barely represented in this book. Considering the emphasis put in the way gender roles serve to constrict those they target, this omission ends up being disappointing.

Note: This is an extended version of a review that was originally published to The StoryGraph: https://app.thestorygraph.com/reviews/ca0bd045-be14-4924-a227-218c52edd942