Original title: “Buroggu”

This is an edited version of a blog post that originally appeared on 09/17/2006.

Moe has given me a big headache in recent SegaGaga work, but I think we’re coming out of it with solid material.

I’ve had to get past my irritation with the concept of moe in order to start dealing with its linguistic appearance in the text. Even before that, I needed to understand the subject. The Japanese language’s relatively imprecise terminology has been no help. Thankfully, I have found a great article on Heisei Democracy’s website written by a fellow who goes by the name Shingo. The author uses the breadth of material described as moe to break the overall mass into four categories. These categories are:

(1) Junai-kei moe: Depicts a loving (though not sexual) relationship between the female character and the focal male figure, whether he is the reader or the reader’s avatar in the story.

(2) Otome-kei moe: Depicts the female character as the center of an idealized past or present, often de-emphasizing the masculine presence in order to augment the effect.

(3) Erokawaii-kei moe: Depicts a sexualized moe female character, though the expressed sexuality is inhibited by her innocence and consent. Both of these qualities often become less opaque, resulting in a sexual encounter between the female character and the focal male figure.

(4) Denpa-kei moe: Depicts a female character adorned with fetish objects, expressing the particular obsessions in either costumes or accessories instead of establishing the obsessions with the narrative.

I want to coin another term alongside Shingo’s Japanese categories: Ur-Moe. This term describes the composite gallery of images and stylistic attributes that people describe as moe within the otaku culture.

The term serves two purposes. First, it specifies that the context of linguistic discussion belongs to the otaku usage of the word moe, rather than its popular usage to convey enthusiasm. Second, Ur-Moe highlights the fact that the bare term “moe” has many faces, all of which tend to go by the name “moe,” and Ur-Moe refers to their totality.

Let me restate this a few times to make my distinctions clear. Moe refers to specific instances wherein the subculture’s values prompt recognition of a specific type of Ur-Moe, while Ur-Moe refers to the panoply that Shingo broke into categories. Moe refers to the concept’s adjectival usage, while Ur-Moe stands as a noun. Moe refers to the subjective experience; Ur-Moe refers to the objective existence of drawings within at least three pop media (manga, anime, and games) that prompt the moe reaction.

The prefix “Ur-” carries connotations of “eternal” or “ultimately stable.” A similar use of the term can be found in Umbert Eco’s excellent essay, “Ur-Fascism.” Eco wrote about the extreme flexibility of political Fascism, owing to its lack of focus as a totalitarian movement. While effectively oppressive, Fascism did not require total submission of all human varieties to a single set of prescribed behaviors. Linguistic (rather than political) circumstances prompted the essay; he was interested to see that so many people would describe instances of oppression as “fascist,” even when those instances were not related to political Fascism.

The same holds true here. Moe is also a synecdoche, capable of referring to a variety of visual styles in J-Pop media that prompt an experience of its aesthetic. The specific qualities that prompt moe experiences do not add up to a system by which one can objectively determine drawings as moe or not moe. However, they are sufficient to allow the moe sensibility to coagulate around the drawings, once in the audience’s fat, sweaty hands. Lacking terms by which we can anticipate future moe characters based off prior creations, Ur-Moe refers to the total phenomenon.

I have found these distinctions useful when translating SegaGaga‘s conversations about moe. Here’s a rough conversion chart to show how the terms (I think) are best coaxed into English.

(X) Technical Term (part of speech) -> Language used in translation: rationale.

(1) Ur-Moe (noun) -> Referred to as moe, lower case, except when it appears as part of a title: should be regarded as a niche loanword.

(2) moe (adjective) -> Should not use the term moe in any way, but should describe the meaning of the usage in context: moe as an adjective is rhetorical rather than demonstrative, and rhetorical language alienates the audience at the expense of dramatic interest.

(3) moeru (verb) -> Should appear exactly in the terms of the literal verb, which means (depending on the exact kanji used) to bud or sprout or to burn passionately and intensely: the verb can appear as part of Japanese wordplay, but the loanword’s function does not spill over into its verb form. If left as moeru or substituted with moe, it isn’t translated.

The real difficulty arises when moeru appears as a pun. In the specific context of SegaGaga, a conversation occurs about the importance of including Ur-Moe elements in videogames. Both characters discuss their “moe,” meaning their ability to apply Ur-Moe elements skillfully in games. Then they use moeru as a verb to describe their improved skill in applied Ur-Moe. The pun involves a verb-to grow or sprout-which also captures the phonetic sounds of the noun that they’re discussing, “moe.”

You can’t translate this literally into English without shredding the subtlety of the joke. However, the English language is perfectly capable of subtlety on its own terms through poetry. A translator can use the cognitive qualities of poetry to supplement an otherwise unintelligible, literal translation.

T. S. Eliot coined the term “objective correlative” to describe an element of his poetry, influenced by early 20th century anthropological studies such as Sir James Frazer’s The Golden Bough. He posits that certain ideas resonate with associative meaning because all human cultures share those associations. Water, for example, carries associations of birth and rebirth. Contrasting water, fire carries associations of purification and discipline. Both fire and water are objects that correlate with these abstractions.

There’s an objective correlation at work in Ur-Moe, too; we see its presence in the ancient Western tradition of May Day. Youth’s sexuality and fresh vegetation follow each other hand in hand. We can work with this.

Translation of the Ur-Moe / moeru wordplay has two fixed pieces: the fact that Ur-Moe will be written as moe, and the fact that moeru means to bud or sprout. Since the non-Japanese reader has no referent experience to connect Ur-Moe to the incipient process of plant growth, we should use tropistic language to form the conversational context for Ur-Moe. The combination of tropistic language and the objective correlation between youthful sexuality and fresh plants should make the connection between the word moe and the idea to plant or bud more cogent.

This will also necessarily restrict the language we use when Ur-Moe is not being discussed. Careless use of tropistic language will dilute the association between Ur-Moe and early plant life.

In this light, then, Alisa should not say, “I’m relieved to see that you’ve improved your understanding of moe!” Instead, she should say, “I’m relieved to see that you’ve cultivated your sense of moe well!” Obviously, we’ll need more than a handful of such instances to expose the reader to connections between Ur-Moe and budding plants. Thankfully, Ur-Moe is the subject of much conversation in certain parts of the game, giving us plenty of time to work the suggestions into the experience.

One of Jerel’s observations made me laugh while we discussed how to handle the Ur-Moe / moeru translation: “Deep, man. The translator, player, and hero all on the same journey to discover moe!” I’m guessing that the echoes of simulation here would make a post-structuralist need to take a cold shower, but I’m unamazed.

This ain’t pomo.

This is work!