leeper@mtgzz.UUCP (m.r.leeper) (11/26/85)
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF YUKIO MISHIMA by Henry Scott Stokes
Ballantine, 1985, $3.95.
A book review by Mark R. Leeper
As with a number of non-Western cultures, I have been interested for
some time in the Japanese feudal period and the age of the samurai. For a
while I have been aware of Japan's great novelist who wished Japan to return
to the virtues and greatness of the feudal period. His name was Yukio
Mishima and he is best known in the West for his 1970 suicide after a vain
(in both senses) attempt to convince the Japanese army to revolt and to
return to the virtues of old, including returning Japan to its former
greatness. I suspected that Mishima was a classical tragic figure and I
wanted to know more about his philosophy.
What brought matters to a head was the release of Paul Schroeder's film
MISHIMA and its very positive reviews. I saw the film in some ways as a
very beautiful film, but what I got out of it was that Mishima was acting
out a role not unlike a character in one of his novels. If you understand
his novels, you probably understand his life. Many of Mishima's novels are
about men who faced emotional turmoil taking violent action, though rarely
does the action seem to be connected with the cause of the turmoil in any
obvious way. There is just a feel that a violent act cleanses all.
Because I wanted to understand Mishima's philosophy, I read THE LIFE
AND DEATH OF YUKIO MISHIMA by Henry Scott Stokes. I still do not feel I
understand Mishima, but at the same time I am developing a profound dislike
for the man. That is probably not the author's intention, but I found
myself distrusting the man's beliefs more and more as I read the book.
Consider Stokes's summary of Mishima's story "The Room with the Locked
Door":
An Okurasho official has a love affair with a married
woman, who dies in bed; he leaves the room, locking the door
behind him, and outside in the passage meets the nine-year-
old daughter of the woman. The two play together for a
while, and the man dreams of ripping the frail body of the
little girl to shreds, to make himself a "free inhabitant of
this disorderly world."
Now I realize I am reading only one author's precis of another's story
and that some of the meaning was lost. On the other hand, I really cannot
imagine how even by reading the original of this story could it be
considered fine literature. Another story that comes to mind is TEMPLE OF
THE GOLDEN PAVILION, in which a stuttering monk, obsessed with his own
physical imperfection, burns down a temple. Until recently Mishima's best-
known story in the West (because it was the subject of an English language
film) was THE SAILOR WHO FELL FROM GRACE WITH THE SEA. As I remember, this
is the story of a group of young children who kill a cat and, emboldened by
this, kill their leader's mother and her lover.
Much of what we get of Mishima's writing is like the following:
Kashiwagi then introduces the Zen koan (riddle), "One
day a beautiful kitten is found in the neighborhood of two
temples. The monks of the two temples dispute among
themselves as to who should look after it. Nansen ends the
dispute by asking them to him him why he should not kill the
kitten, and when they cannot reply, he kills it. When his
chief disciple, Joshu, who has been out, returns to the
temple, Nansen tells him what has happened. Thereupon Joshu
takes off his muddy shoes and places them on his head. 'If
only you had been here," Nansen says, 'then the kitten could
have been saved!'" "You see," continued Kasiwagi, "that's
what beauty is like. To have killed the kitten seemed just
like having extracted a painful tooth, like having gouged out
beauty. Yet it was uncertain whether or not this had really
been a final solution. The root of beauty had not been
severed, and even though the kitten was dead, the kitten's
beauty might very well still be alive. At so, you see, it
was in order to satirize the glibness of the solution that
Joshu put those shoes on his head. He knew, so to speak,
that there was no possible solution other than enduring the
pain of the decayed tooth."
Initially, it is easy to sympathize with Mishima's wish to see Japan
return to being a great military power. After all, it seems that he feels
his country has lost its honor. As the book continues, I start asking
myself do I really want to put a sword in the hands of a man who thinks that
it is a great symbolic act to rip a little girl to shreds?
Mishima's military views also smack just a bit of hypocrisy. Until he
formed his own small private army, the Shield Society, he never served in
the military. During World War II, he was deferred from military service
for medical conditions that he exaggerated to avoid the draft. Never having
paid the dues of serving in the military, he presumed to tell the military
that it was not bold enough, not mean enough--it should have revolted
against the government and set the emperor up again as the supreme leader.
Mishima, after some reading strikes me as nothing so much as a little
boy in a man's intellect. He wants to be big and powerful and mean, and he
shows it by stomping caterpillars and using magnifying glasses to burn ants.
He goes around trying to ape a romantic role he saw in a movie once and
tells himself, "That's what I'm like." I won't say this completely explains
Mishima's character; it is just the best explanation I know of. I should
probably be more careful of whom I am impressed with.
Mark R. Leeper
...ihnp4!mtgzz!leeperedwards@uwmacc.UUCP (mark edwards) (11/27/85)
In article <1440@mtgzz.UUCP> leeper@mtgzz.UUCP (m.r.leeper) writes: > > THE LIFE AND DEATH OF YUKIO MISHIMA by Henry Scott Stokes > A book review by Mark R. Leeper > >very beautiful film, but what I got out of it was that Mishima was acting >out a role not unlike a character in one of his novels. > > I still do not feel I >understand Mishima, but at the same time I am developing a profound dislike >for the man. > > Mishima, after some reading strikes me as nothing so much as a little >boy in a man's intellect. He wants to be big and powerful and mean, and he >shows it by stomping caterpillars and using magnifying glasses to burn ants. >He goes around trying to ape a romantic role he saw in a movie once and >tells himself, "That's what I'm like." I won't say this completely explains >Mishima's character; it is just the best explanation I know of. I should >probably be more careful of whom I am impressed with. > You should not use your western eyes to judge a non westerner. However some of your observations on the content of his novels I would tend to agree with. Especially that of his acting out his novels. He wrote a short story about seppuku in which he gives full bloody descriptions of preparing for it, the wife characters seppuku, the main character acting as a second, then finally the main characters seppuku. He details what he thinks is going through the minds of each character. In short he rehearsed his own seppuku at least once (I think more) in writing. Don't forget that seppuku, as well as lovers suicides, and others are still considered honorable ways to die. Inorder to better understand him and his writings, get to know authors that he read and his peer authors. Look up an author named Akutagawa who I think Mishima studied at one time. Akuatagawa's stories are equally as unsual as Mishima's. mark ==================================================================== Akutagawa te hen ne. Soo deshoo. Yoku bikkuri suru gurai hanashi o shite iru no.