Books: “Confessions of a Mask” by Yukio Mishima

A tale of internal turmoil, suggestive of the author’s own struggles of reconciling his violent homosexual passions and social ‘normals’ of the time. The book, as the title implies, is a demasking; an invitation to view a man and his ‘habit,’ to fantasize naked lithe youths wriggling in agony after being pierced with imaginary spears. Despite his gory daydreams, the voice behind the masks is gentle and renders the line between admiration of the male body and erotic desire as null. Ancient statues of naked Grecian Gods and heroes come alive as visuals in the mask’s narrative.
For all that is written of the female body, there is but few on the male’s taut abdomen and hallows of armpits. It was almost empowering – to gaze on male nakedness, falling into wonton lust with their bodies; a complete reversal of the vulnerability suffered under a man’s eyes.

“Could this have been love? Grant it to be one form of love, for even though at first glance it seemed to retain its pristine form forever, simply repeating that form over an over again, it too had its own unique sort of debasement and decay. And it was a debasement more evil than that of any normal kind of love. Indeed, of all the kinds of decay in this world, decadent purity is the most malignant.

“As though a coquette had come telling her littles secrets, a light breeze blew in from the sea, bringing to my ears a tiny sound like the invisible wing-beats of some lighthearted insects.”

“But what no one could ever have discovered was the singular reciprocal relationship between my lack of blood and my blood lust itself.”

“The romantic personality is pervaded with a subtle mistrust of intellectualism, and this fact is often conducive to that immoral action called daydreaming. Contrary to belief, daydreaming is not an intellectual process but rather an escape from intellectualism…”