I can, slowly, read French, but I found an out-of-print English translation, and read that.
Yourcenar remans an author of astonishing ability to assemble words and themes. Every page in this 150 page book was fascinating. I paused several times to marvel not just at her sentence structure but at the discipline she brought to her analysis of Mishima’s life and art.
But this book was written too soon (1980, only ten years after Mishima’s spectacular seppuku with his personal “Shield Society” army in a Japanese Defense Force barracks in Tokyo). “If a national and reactionary revolution ever triumphs, even briefly, in Japan—as happened in certain Islamic countries—the Shield Society will have been its forerunner.”
No: to the extent Japan remembers Mishima, it is with a mixture of loathing and embarrassment. None of my Japanese clients (over a 30-year period) could bear my mentioning his name, so I stopped. I visited some sites from his books once out from under my minders’ care.
To be sure, I agreed with Yourcenar’s analysis of Mishima’s short stories and novels. For example, she identifies exactly why and where I had great difficulty with his final tetralogy: in the second book, Runaway Horses, whose plot turns on reincarnation, as does the third volume, The Temple of the Dawn. This might have been plausible and interesting to Buddhists or Shintoists. But, as she notes, it comes off as lazy plotting to Westerners, especially because after the reincarnation is discovered by each novel’s protagonist, the protagonist wrecks his life and career for what he thinks is a childhood friend who died young, now reborn.
New to me is that Mishima filmed a Nō play he wrote, “Patriotism.” It’s a simple five-scene/two character play, with similar themes as “Decay of the Angel”. More than any other single thing, it presages Mishima’s last day. I will seek a copy of this film, but—in summary—a group of Right Wing army soldiers have been sentenced to death for attempting to revolt. The Lieutenant, played by Mishima, is spared, because he is a newlywed, but his pride does not allow him to outlive his comrades. His young wife not only agrees to act as her husband’s second, but does not want to outlive him. They make love then, he first, then she, suicide.
After Mishima’s death, his wife Yoko said she expected the suicide “but not for another year or two.” Mishima’s mother said, “Don’t grieve for him. For the first time in his life, he did what he wanted to do.” These are astounding quotes, and the fact that Yourcenar doesn’t mock them enough (she mocks Yoko) tells me she really believed Japan some day would reject its alliance with the US; delete Article 9 of its Constitution (committing its forces to defense only, not attack); and return to an honor-based society. Despite the fact that Japan, too, now manufactures in Malaysia, this is literally insane, and it was in 1980.
Obviously, I enjoy both Yourcenar and Mishima. (If anyone hasn’t read “Memoirs of Hadrian,” do so.) This short literary bio is a marvelous read for anyone who’s read Mishima’s work. But she completely misunderstood Mishima’s place in Japan’s culture and future: none.
UPDATE:
I now have seen “Patriotism,” and am surprised. For a Nō play, it is surprisingly “talky.” Not that the characters speak—that never could happen. But there’s a low-budget scroll in English, spelling out (literally) far too much. This from a man who spent a lifetime complaining about the gap between words and actions. Plus, there’s a great deal of skin between Mishima and, get this, a woman.
And the two ritual suicides here are by far the goriest I’ve ever seen depicted. This is the second filmed sequence of seppuku I’ve seen of Mishima, and the only realistic one. The music is spooky; the blood brutal. You have been warned.