"Yukio Mishima’s Confessions of a Mask (1949) is another “I” novel, a coming-of-age story of a young man navigating his homosexuality. Fine, he likes men. Shrug. " -- Given the nature of my current work, I feel the need to drop in here and remind us that it's "shrug" now only because of a lot of hard-won victories. In 1949, when that story was written, of course, liking men was a big big big problem for any queer man (as of course it still is in 2023, in parts of the US/world). I know you know that, but it's easy for us to forget the struggles that made that wonderful shrug possible. 🏳️🌈
Also, your reference to your fellow sumo-lover reminds me of our conversation the other day -- about how if someone loves what we love and we mention it, they will inevitably speak up, thus no need to do the opposite. I'm glad you found a fellow devotee!
I am aware of the LGBTQ+ community's history of struggle for recognition and acceptance in the United States, though I know very little about it in Japan. My shrug there wasn't negating the struggle as much as setting up a contrast with the unusual fetish that followed.
Generally speaking, that section was a very shallow take on several overlapping sociological phenomena in Japanese society -- for instance, you might know that the "lover's suicide" in Dazai's book was an existing trope. As well, there are many more exemplars of frustrated (in it's most expensive sense) men in modern Japanese literature, for instance gekiga comics.
I'm sure there are whole books explaining the why of all of this, so I acknowledge that was soon as I jumped into this topical flow I was out of my depth.
Yes, sorry -- I tried to write my comment acknowledging that of course you know that! It's just that, steeped as I have been for the past two years in the queer literature of the 1940s, 50s and 60s, I'm more aware of the courage of that literature in its mere existence than I ordinarly would be. It would be fascinating someday to delve into the Japanese equivalent.
Confessions of a Mask haunted me. Attraction and evisceration being knotted together like that definitely opened a lot of chasms in my mind...when my roommate Bryce read that book, he already had an informed depiction of St. Sebastian in his head, and his interest in religious art hinges on its simultaneous reverence and sensuality and how it contradicts the chastity of the Word. Not my expertise per se, but Bryce would be the first to note the homoerotic undertones in those artworks. So it's plain to see how brutality would factor in as well. Also, the title Confessions of a Mask, through the lens of Japan's social customs of indirect, high-content language, stokes up more thought about masking messages and meaning and, in this case, desire. Just you mentioning it makes me want to read it again—how dangerous.
If you want to try another Mishima book, the first I read of his was the Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea, which, when I think about your Goner story (and book???), might give some food for thought about the tragedies and pitfalls of masculinity.
Anyway, great post as always—sorry I came to it late, I'll be back in two days >:)
The danger is why Mishima is so evocative -- his unusual personality in regular literary fluxus. Tangentially related: Have you read any Kawabata? Would love to discuss him with you!
I'll do "Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea" later this year probably. My next Mishima will be "Thirst for Love" which is the book he published after Confessions. Donald Keene said in his "Appreciations of Japanese Culture" that in Thirst, Mishima moves away from being a self-chronicler, that his characters are sharply drawn in contrast with Confessions, and that it has a tighter structure. I'm curious about this literary metamorphosis. Will know more after I read it.
And don't apologize for arriving later. These pages are evergreen!
I haven't read Kawabata, but I just saw that you're reading the Old Capital. Should I start with that one? Now that I have a one way to Japan in October, I'm looking for artifacts from my future life. The language school I'm attending is in Kyoto, too. Might be apt to the max't.
"Yukio Mishima’s Confessions of a Mask (1949) is another “I” novel, a coming-of-age story of a young man navigating his homosexuality. Fine, he likes men. Shrug. " -- Given the nature of my current work, I feel the need to drop in here and remind us that it's "shrug" now only because of a lot of hard-won victories. In 1949, when that story was written, of course, liking men was a big big big problem for any queer man (as of course it still is in 2023, in parts of the US/world). I know you know that, but it's easy for us to forget the struggles that made that wonderful shrug possible. 🏳️🌈
Also, your reference to your fellow sumo-lover reminds me of our conversation the other day -- about how if someone loves what we love and we mention it, they will inevitably speak up, thus no need to do the opposite. I'm glad you found a fellow devotee!
I am aware of the LGBTQ+ community's history of struggle for recognition and acceptance in the United States, though I know very little about it in Japan. My shrug there wasn't negating the struggle as much as setting up a contrast with the unusual fetish that followed.
Generally speaking, that section was a very shallow take on several overlapping sociological phenomena in Japanese society -- for instance, you might know that the "lover's suicide" in Dazai's book was an existing trope. As well, there are many more exemplars of frustrated (in it's most expensive sense) men in modern Japanese literature, for instance gekiga comics.
I'm sure there are whole books explaining the why of all of this, so I acknowledge that was soon as I jumped into this topical flow I was out of my depth.
Yes, sorry -- I tried to write my comment acknowledging that of course you know that! It's just that, steeped as I have been for the past two years in the queer literature of the 1940s, 50s and 60s, I'm more aware of the courage of that literature in its mere existence than I ordinarly would be. It would be fascinating someday to delve into the Japanese equivalent.
"...because monsters..." indeed - wonderful post that covered so much
Blankets are armor!
Confessions of a Mask haunted me. Attraction and evisceration being knotted together like that definitely opened a lot of chasms in my mind...when my roommate Bryce read that book, he already had an informed depiction of St. Sebastian in his head, and his interest in religious art hinges on its simultaneous reverence and sensuality and how it contradicts the chastity of the Word. Not my expertise per se, but Bryce would be the first to note the homoerotic undertones in those artworks. So it's plain to see how brutality would factor in as well. Also, the title Confessions of a Mask, through the lens of Japan's social customs of indirect, high-content language, stokes up more thought about masking messages and meaning and, in this case, desire. Just you mentioning it makes me want to read it again—how dangerous.
If you want to try another Mishima book, the first I read of his was the Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea, which, when I think about your Goner story (and book???), might give some food for thought about the tragedies and pitfalls of masculinity.
Anyway, great post as always—sorry I came to it late, I'll be back in two days >:)
The danger is why Mishima is so evocative -- his unusual personality in regular literary fluxus. Tangentially related: Have you read any Kawabata? Would love to discuss him with you!
I'll do "Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea" later this year probably. My next Mishima will be "Thirst for Love" which is the book he published after Confessions. Donald Keene said in his "Appreciations of Japanese Culture" that in Thirst, Mishima moves away from being a self-chronicler, that his characters are sharply drawn in contrast with Confessions, and that it has a tighter structure. I'm curious about this literary metamorphosis. Will know more after I read it.
And don't apologize for arriving later. These pages are evergreen!
I haven't read Kawabata, but I just saw that you're reading the Old Capital. Should I start with that one? Now that I have a one way to Japan in October, I'm looking for artifacts from my future life. The language school I'm attending is in Kyoto, too. Might be apt to the max't.
I'd start with Snow Country or Thousand Cranes. Both are beautiful. Make Old Capital the next one after those.
Oh man! You're making your dreams come true!