I will just say it flat-out: this is the most enlightening anime book I have ever read. Previous nonfiction works are lacking because they are often written by, (and for,) hardcore anime viewers, mercilessly burying readers in trivial plot points and background information about niched feature films, shows, and OAVs. Ian Condry is not an obsessive "Otaku," but a cultural anthropologist, Associate Professor of Comparative Media Studies at MIT, so his extensive research goes beyond film titles, directors' names, and plot summaries. As a cultural anthropologist, Condry's intent in this 230-page piece is to reveal the inborn and highly-entangled RELATIONSHIP between the product (anime, manga, toys, etc.) and the people who produce, distribute and consume them (Otaku fans, Studio Ghibli, etc...) This relationship, this careful interplay, between consumer and commodity is an invisible thread binding this cultural phenomena together. This is the "Soul" of anime in which the book is named, the essential thing of importance often overlooked by many writers of the topic. One humorous early example in the book is the unusual birth of "Afro Samurai," a hit anime miniseries from 2007 that started, literally, as a fan-made mannequin sitting on somebody's desk at Studio Gonzo; this simple fan toy was seen by the right people, was endorsed by actor Sam Jackson, and became a hit on both Spike TV in America and in Japanese cinemas.
What delighted me most about the book was Condry's thorough, unbiased observations, his avoidance of tiresome mindsets such as "well, it's crazy Japan, so that's just how things are done there.." The "Soul" of anime is widespread and global, so it is ridiculous to assume that anime is "there," and "we" are "here." As a cultural anthropologist, Condry is remarkably open-minded and comments on all aspects of the global phenomena. He also avoids the second pitfall many anime books succumb to, which is the the false notion that the industry is "wonderful and growing, growing, growing like an oiled factory machine." Not so. Condry realistically faces the cold hard reality: the anime industry in the last decade is faltering, due to labor moving to other countries, the triple disasters of 2011, (the Tohoku Earthquake/tsunami and the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear event,) which robbed the country of its perceived 'coolness,' and the growing problem of piracy from excessive "fandubs," (mentioned a few paragraphs down in this review.) Many of Condry's information comes from visiting anime workshops and meetings; here, he also notices a sad trend in workers, in which the percentage of women within studios is surprisingly minuscule compared to male laborers, and that actual anime, while still "conceived" in motherland Japan, is being produced at an alarming rate in China other neighboring countries where labor is cheaper.
The book's research goes back as far as 2005 as Condry visits prominent people within the industry, such as the legendary founders of Studio Ghibli, and those involved in the prestigious toy company Bandai. This book is amazingly hip and up-do-date, being published this year (2013). And if what I have already written was not good enough, much of Condry's observations of the anime production process follows the day-to-day dealings of rising star Mamoru Hosoda, the innovative, stylish, anime trailblazer, whose work is expected to bring the industry into the exciting, (and uncertain,) 21st Century. Hosoda's two highly acclaimed, box office hits "The Girl Who Leapt Through Time" and "Summer Wars," are dissected through characterization, themes, and storyboard process. As a cultural anthropologist, Condry also remarks on the crammed, messy, (almost sweatshop,) conditions facing animators, as well as the filmmakers' approach to storyboards. (Like American animated films, storyboards are used as a brainstorming device , but are often dissed once the story is in place.) This analysis of Hosoda's stories reveal a look at anime's "Soul" as a strong collaboration between world community; in "Summer Wars," for example, Hosoda set out to make a film whose hero is no single person, but a group, a conglomeration of characters and personalities who act as one.
Condry addresses several fascinating topics throughout the chapters. Chapter Three, for example, explains the strong influence of American animation in Japan, giving insight as to why anime characters look Westernized and often have such large eyes. (It is because classic 30's era Fleisher/Disney toons had em!) He explores the reasons why American animation has been stuck in the comic, children's niche for so long, (where it still resides, for the most part,) while Japanese anime, while having its humble origins in an Astro Boy-driven past, has taken off into a plethora of genres and audience demographics. The reasoning has to do with the fact that American animation and comics originally functioned as a post-vaudeville form of entertainment for the masses, and comic books have been severely censored in the 1950s; Japanese animation, by contrast, never had censorship, (until two or three years ago,) and their animation was conceived from the start as a moving "illustration." Another interesting area is the relationship between voice work and animation. "Aladdin"'s Genie relied heavily on the previously-recorded voice work of Robin Williams, and American animators at Disney did their best to PERFORM their artwork to this voice work, exaggerating, "cartoonifying" movements to the fullest extent possible. Japanese anime, on the other hand, takes a more realistic approach, one grounded in the "real," with voice work being performed AFTER all drawings had been completed. Stylistically, an anime film is, in essence, a "story with pictures," an illustrated live action film, very similar to ancient Japanese wood carvings and visual scroll drawings, (emakimono,) of the 12th Century. This fundamental differences between American and Japanese approaches to animation took me completely by surprise.
A second aspect that Condry addresses in Chapter Six "Dark Energy," (starting on page 161,) deals with oversea "fansubbing," the controversial, (and illegal,) practice of downloading an anime online and re-releasing it with fan-made tracts of dialogue, for the consumption of fellow Otaku. This complex world is further complicated due to fansubbers' claims that they are morally justified for breaking the law: the anime industry takes too long to export subtitled anime to America. Curiously, while the anime industry is suffering financially from this illegal practice, they do not enforce strict, anti-piracy laws as in the United States, because Otaku's fansubbing efforts increase the popularity of the anime shows. "Popularity is enlived by network effects... Dark energy evokes the larger, flowing system, not just the element that can be packaged and sold" (Condry 164). In other words, fans are increasing the mystique of the product, adding more invisible ties between fans and the product, subculture and mainstream, strengthening anime's "Soul."
One final aspect of the book which I appreciate, because of its speculative and philosophical nature, deals with "moe" love. Moe has no English translation, and describes a strong feeling of attraction and love/lust with an imaginary 2D character. An increasing number of Otaku, (both in American and Japan,) have entered the so-called "love revolution," falling in love with virtual female divas such as Dejiko or Hatsune Miku. Some individuals, like the mentioned Taichi Takashita in 2008, have gone so far as to "set up an online petition to call for legal recognition of the right to marry an anime character" (186). Condry analyzes this unusual, growing phenomena by comparing the traditional working, breadwinning "salaryman" who marries, (for lack of a better term,) a "three-dimensional" woman, and how preconceived notions of masculinity are being chipped away by internet/media-savvy Otaku. The new-fangled Denpa Otoko "Radiowave Man," expresses alternative values of love as a social evolution, due to the global trend of technological bombardment. I found this chapter to be extremely eye-opening because it demonstrates how anime and media is real, how "...we see that the wider collaborative potential of new media can help produce extremely idiosyncratic and personal affects, so that even the seemingly asocial love for a 2d character in fact illuminates the emergence of alternative social worlds" (Condry 203). If anime is valuable and "real" in a business sense, (generating billions of dollars of annual revenue through the creation and marketing of beloved and recognizable characters, such as "Pokemon" and "Sailor Moon,") why should society deprive fans of a less-tangible feeling of worth, (moe love,) towards fictitious characters? The chapter ends with nothing but questions and concerns, particularly this one: if Japan allows a man to legally marry an anime character, does he pay royalties to the studio/company who 'owns' her?
The only complaint I had with this book is that I wanted further exploration concerning this "love revolution," especially concerning the recent technological innovations over the last two years enlivening the virtual diva/Vocaloid Hatsune Miku, who performs numerous "live" concerts. The phenomena of Hatsune Miku is one of the most exciting and unusual aspects of Japan, but the book never really addresses it. Other than this minor flaw, I highly recommend this book for fans of anime, those interested in culture/media studies, or anybody who wants to beef-up his or her brain with a well-researched piece of work. Condry's work is well-researched and will lead to further research on the reader' part; "The Soul of Anime" contains many outside references and footnotes, and is a worthy literary source for a research paper in any University setting.