Confessions of a Mask
Ratings66
Average rating4
I was drawn to this semi-autobiographical novel after reading up a bit on the author, Yukio Mishima. Not only his brilliance as an "avant-garde modern Japanese classical author", but his nature- being homosexual, pro-Imperial-Japan during the 20s and onwards. I now understand what others meant when they said it was obvious Mishima was going to commit suicide, as he writes about this agony of pretending, agony of self-deception throughput the novel. In honesty, it was difficult for me to understand his character at times, and it felt as though Mishima was deeply troubled- his whole existence was beyond our senses, or at least how he portrays it through Kochan. This book seamlessly carries you through Kochan's life, where you hardly notice the time passing (as in the plot) but are still engrossed in the further developments of who Kochan presents himself to be, or who he thinks he is- which is interesting in the way he rarely describes societal pressures. I've never read such a truly complex/developed person/character, and I think as a queer man in 40s Japan, it's revealing and complicated because that's just how it was. I don't think I can rate this novel, but I encourage others who are in the queer space to read it as well, but it's not really a coming-out book to be honest. As imperfect as he is, Kochan's masks show us his truth. I think I will come back and read this again as an older adult to digest it diferently.
I was drawn to this semi-autobiographical novel after reading up a bit on the author, Yukio Mishima. Not only his brilliance as an "avant-garde modern Japanese classical author", but his nature- being homosexual, pro-Imperial-Japan during the 20s and onwards. I now understand what others meant when they said it was obvious Mishima was going to commit suicide, as he writes about this agony of pretending, agony of self-deception throughput the novel. In honesty, it was difficult for me to understand his character at times, and it felt as though Mishima was deeply troubled- his whole existence was beyond our senses, or at least how he portrays it through Kochan. This book seamlessly carries you through Kochan's life, where you hardly notice the time passing (as in the plot) but are still engrossed in the further developments of who Kochan presents himself to be, or who he thinks he is- which is interesting in the way he rarely describes societal pressures. I've never read such a truly complex/developed person/character, and I think as a queer man in 40s Japan, it's revealing and complicated because that's just how it was. I don't think I can rate this novel, but I encourage others who are in the queer space to read it as well, but it's not really a coming-out book to be honest. As imperfect as he is, Kochan's masks show us his truth. I think I will come back and read this again as an older adult to digest it diferently.
I was drawn to this semi-autobiographical novel after reading up a bit on the author, Yukio Mishima. Not only his brilliance as an "avant-garde modern Japanese classical author", but his nature- being homosexual, pro-Imperial-Japan during the 20s and onwards. I now understand what others meant when they said it was obvious Mishima was going to commit suicide, as he writes about this agony of pretending, agony of self-deception throughput the novel. In honesty, it was difficult for me to understand his character at times, and it felt as though Mishima was deeply troubled- his whole existence was beyond our senses, or at least how he portrays it through Kochan. This book seamlessly carries you through Kochan's life, where you hardly notice the time passing (as in the plot) but are still engrossed in the further developments of who Kochan presents himself to be, or who he thinks he is- which is interesting in the way he rarely describes societal pressures. I've never read such a truly complex/developed person/character, and I think as a queer man in 40s Japan, it's revealing and complicated because that's just how it was. I don't think I can rate this novel, but I encourage others who are in the queer space to read it as well. As imperfect as he is, Kochan's masks show us his truth. I think I will come back and read this again as an older adult to digest it diferently.
I was drawn to this semi-autobiographical novel after reading up a bit on the author, Yukio Mishima. Not only his brilliance as an "avant-garde modern Japanese classical author", but his nature- being homosexual, pro-Imperial-Japan during the 20s and onwards. I now understand what others meant when they said it was obvious Mishima was going to commit suicide, as he writes about this agony of pretending, agony of self-deception throughput the novel. In honesty, it was difficult for me to understand his character at times, and it felt as though Mishima was deeply troubled- his whole existence was beyond our senses, or at least how he portrays it through Kochan. This book seamlessly carries you through Kochan's life, where you hardly notice the time passing (as in the plot) but are still engrossed in the further developments of who Kochan presents himself to be, or who he thinks he is- which is interesting in the way he rarely describes societal pressures. I've never read such a truly complex/developed person/character, and I think as a queer man in 40s Japan, it's revealing and complicated because that's just how it was. I don't think I can rate this novel, but I encourage others who are in the queer space to read it as well. As imperfect as he is, Kochan's masks show us his truth. I think I will come back and read this again as an older adult to digest it diferently.
