Mishima Yukio is the pen name of one of the most significant figures in the postwar 20th century Japanese literature. His aesthetic combination of traditional and modern has a long lasting influence, and this as well as other aspects of his life has been greatly publicized through various means of scholarly effort and public media. I merely would like to view him through the looking glass provided by two of his works, and fill in some necessary details to make a more or less complete story out of it.
The book I read from him some time ago was his "Confessions of a Mask" (1949), one of his early works, and the one that actually made him famous. In short, this is a semi-autobiographic novel, and tells the life experiences of a young man called Kochan raised in the militaristic contemporary Japanese society. Kochan is a physically weak, sensitive child, who is raised largely in isolation, and becomes involved in a fantasy world. A central element of his fantasies is his fascination with death. On the one hand, he finds romance in the idea of death as an escape into heroism from the realities of life. On the other hand, he increasingly fancies idealized male figures, whose full attraction is apparent to him only in the moment of their heroic and often grotesque death. The latter fantasies become the basis for his latent homosexuality. Later he admires a classmate for his masculine strength and body, something that he did not have but had always felt attracted to. At the same time, he develops a personality, the titular mask, behind which he hides these desires. Eventually, he even gets involved with a girl, going as far as kissing her, but while speaking about a sort of sympathy to her, he still remains amidst his fantasies. The most telling is perhaps the last meeting of the two near the end of the novel, interrupted by a description of a bloody fantasy involving a young man whom Kochan spotted. The fact that this novel made Mishima well-known is also worth pondering. I guess the degree of reality with which he wrote it, lends in itself artistic value to the novel, even though the topic it deals with is far from pleasant. Bloody fantasies at a very young age, and latent homosexuality, these are topics most readers of the book would perhaps not admit to have experienced, but which may have nevertheless formed part of the formative period of one's life, a part which he may later choose to forget. Mishima's realism is sensitive, not merely the automatic, unveiled and all revealing naturalism of a misguided surgeon cutting out a tumor only to kill the patient with it. That he was able to write a confession that was still interesting to wider audiences is alone a testimony for his talent.
The other work of Mishima that I intend to write about takes us near the end of his career. "Patriotism" of "The Rite of Love and Death" (1966), is a short film directed by Mishima, in which he also plays the main role of a Lieutenant of the royal guard and member of a group planning to overthrow the government they see unworthy for the service of the emperor. He is not participating in the actual coup d'état, mainly on account of his friends' appreciation of the devotion between him and his young wife. However, when the attempt fails, he is ordered to execute his friends. To deny this possibility, and at the same time remain loyal to the emperor, he decides to commit ritual suicide as the only honorable solution. He is rejoiced by the devoted decision of his wife to follow him in this act of honor, preceded by an intensified sexual experience brought about by the closeness of death. One might wonder, knowing what similar events took place later in Mishima's life, what happened to the character of Kochan, who falsely admitted having tuberculosis to avoid military service in the war, leading to almost certain death. In the mean time, Mishima has gone through a number of changes. He took up weight lifting, and overcame his initial weakness, becoming a male model. He also adopted a sort of nationalism, which clashed in a number of points with the mainstream patriotism (e.g. on the bushido). He also got married in 1958. Seeing from the point of view of only these two of his works, it appears that his fascination with death (and perhaps also that with the ideal male) was satisfied in the romance of nationalism, a historically supported possibility for heroic and honorable death. This possibility was perhaps more important that any other aspect of his nationalism, a way of expression for "tendencies" Kochan had to deal with. Mishima's real life attempt for a coup d'état, seems also to have been authored within the same spirit, as if anticipating failure, and leading to a romantic end. He did indeed commit seppuku in 1970, though the romance could have been somewhat spoiled by the several failed attempts by his aid to behead him. In my opinion, Mishima was an immensely sensitive and talented artists, whose romantic urges were impossible to satisfy in his contemporary social environment, which lead to his fantasies turning into a tragic reality. This leaves me thinking whether we have nowadays reached a level of awareness in dealing with sensitivity and "tendencies", which would make such an outcome less likely...
The book I read from him some time ago was his "Confessions of a Mask" (1949), one of his early works, and the one that actually made him famous. In short, this is a semi-autobiographic novel, and tells the life experiences of a young man called Kochan raised in the militaristic contemporary Japanese society. Kochan is a physically weak, sensitive child, who is raised largely in isolation, and becomes involved in a fantasy world. A central element of his fantasies is his fascination with death. On the one hand, he finds romance in the idea of death as an escape into heroism from the realities of life. On the other hand, he increasingly fancies idealized male figures, whose full attraction is apparent to him only in the moment of their heroic and often grotesque death. The latter fantasies become the basis for his latent homosexuality. Later he admires a classmate for his masculine strength and body, something that he did not have but had always felt attracted to. At the same time, he develops a personality, the titular mask, behind which he hides these desires. Eventually, he even gets involved with a girl, going as far as kissing her, but while speaking about a sort of sympathy to her, he still remains amidst his fantasies. The most telling is perhaps the last meeting of the two near the end of the novel, interrupted by a description of a bloody fantasy involving a young man whom Kochan spotted. The fact that this novel made Mishima well-known is also worth pondering. I guess the degree of reality with which he wrote it, lends in itself artistic value to the novel, even though the topic it deals with is far from pleasant. Bloody fantasies at a very young age, and latent homosexuality, these are topics most readers of the book would perhaps not admit to have experienced, but which may have nevertheless formed part of the formative period of one's life, a part which he may later choose to forget. Mishima's realism is sensitive, not merely the automatic, unveiled and all revealing naturalism of a misguided surgeon cutting out a tumor only to kill the patient with it. That he was able to write a confession that was still interesting to wider audiences is alone a testimony for his talent.
The other work of Mishima that I intend to write about takes us near the end of his career. "Patriotism" of "The Rite of Love and Death" (1966), is a short film directed by Mishima, in which he also plays the main role of a Lieutenant of the royal guard and member of a group planning to overthrow the government they see unworthy for the service of the emperor. He is not participating in the actual coup d'état, mainly on account of his friends' appreciation of the devotion between him and his young wife. However, when the attempt fails, he is ordered to execute his friends. To deny this possibility, and at the same time remain loyal to the emperor, he decides to commit ritual suicide as the only honorable solution. He is rejoiced by the devoted decision of his wife to follow him in this act of honor, preceded by an intensified sexual experience brought about by the closeness of death. One might wonder, knowing what similar events took place later in Mishima's life, what happened to the character of Kochan, who falsely admitted having tuberculosis to avoid military service in the war, leading to almost certain death. In the mean time, Mishima has gone through a number of changes. He took up weight lifting, and overcame his initial weakness, becoming a male model. He also adopted a sort of nationalism, which clashed in a number of points with the mainstream patriotism (e.g. on the bushido). He also got married in 1958. Seeing from the point of view of only these two of his works, it appears that his fascination with death (and perhaps also that with the ideal male) was satisfied in the romance of nationalism, a historically supported possibility for heroic and honorable death. This possibility was perhaps more important that any other aspect of his nationalism, a way of expression for "tendencies" Kochan had to deal with. Mishima's real life attempt for a coup d'état, seems also to have been authored within the same spirit, as if anticipating failure, and leading to a romantic end. He did indeed commit seppuku in 1970, though the romance could have been somewhat spoiled by the several failed attempts by his aid to behead him. In my opinion, Mishima was an immensely sensitive and talented artists, whose romantic urges were impossible to satisfy in his contemporary social environment, which lead to his fantasies turning into a tragic reality. This leaves me thinking whether we have nowadays reached a level of awareness in dealing with sensitivity and "tendencies", which would make such an outcome less likely...
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