The Decay of the Angel: The Sea of Fertility, 4

I ordered this book based on the cover my son wanted. The book I received is a different cover. Also, when you try to remove the sticker, it tears the cover. I spent $62 on a an order that is not what I ordered.

Yukio Mishima's THE DECAY OF THE ANGEL is the last volume of his "Sea of Fertility". It is also the last book he wrote. On November 25, 1970 he sent the manuscript off to the publisher, then went to incite the soldiers of Japan's military headquarters to a coup d'etat. When he failed, he committed seppuku. As might be expected, THE DECAY OF THE ANGEL contains much that that relates to Mishima's dissatisfaction with life, and the cosmic nihilism that he promised would be the ultimate theme of the tetralogy comes to the forefront. The ending is also possibly the most shocking in all of literature. The year is now 1970, and Shikeguni Honda adopts a young orphan named Toru, who he believes is the third successive reincarnation of Kiyoaki. The decay present throughout the book is especially present in Honda, who we meet as as a man of seventy-six and who reaches eighty-one by the novel's end. His physical health, memory, and wife are gone. He keeps company with Keiko, the former neighbour whose secret formed the climax of THE TEMPLE OF DAWN, and they talk inanely about senility and medical ailments. But it's also present in Toru who, although young, possesses none of the beauty of Kiyoaki, the dedication of Isao, or the allure of Ying Chan. In fact, Toru is pure evil, and the bulk of the novel is his plot to destroy his adoptive father. The political commentary here is much more subtle than I expected it to be, considering that Mishima ended his life as a nationalist. Japan is plagued by a loss of its own traditions--Keiko shows interest in Japanese culture, but Honda remarks that she treats it as a hobby instead of authentically living it. The country is overrun with Coca-Cola ads and student radicals. But all in all, it is the mind of Honda that is the important setting, not the country around him. By far the most impressive part of the novel is its surprise ending, which demolishes the entire "Sea of Fertility" cycle in a most impressive way when Honda meets Satoko again, who tells him either the mundane truth or the secret to enlightenment itself. The lectures on transmigration and the self which formed such a large part of THE TEMPLE OF DAWN are there for a reason, and what Mishima does with the no-self philosophy of Buddhism is awesome. If you've read one or more of the earlier volumes and are uncertain about pressing on, I exhort you to make it through this one. Looking back on the cycle, I admire its clever design, where the first two novels set a precedent and the second two undo it, and the general arc where we track Honda from youth to senescence, and Kiyoaki from a praise-worthy youth to despicable brat is skillfully done. The series as a whole is brilliant, read it all.

I must admit, I didn't really like this book that much at first. I felt as if Mishima's depiction of Toru (the 'incarnation' this time around), with all the hyper-intelligent, will-to-power stuff, was teetering on the brink of self-parody, especially in an extended first-person section taken from his journal, in which he comes across as a more malevolent version of the narrator of Temple of the Golden Pavilion. And then too the fact that he's just so over-the-top demonic didn't make it any easier to take the narrative entirely seriously. Honda, elevated to the lead part in this and the previous book after supporting roles in the first two, is still an indelible character, but it wasn't really enough, and I was all prepared to give it a rather sour three-star rating. However...however. In the last thirty or so pages, Mishima, in a single blinding burst, turns the entire text upside-down, and ends up by undermining the foundation of the entire Sea of Fertility. I know that seems like a narrative cliché-big plot twists in the end that force one to re-evaluate the entire work-but this, I think it's safe to say, is unlike any other instance of the device that you've ever seen, and Mishima pulls it off brilliantly. I cannot overstate the awe in which I was left. Small wonder he ritually disemboweled himself afterwards-how could you write something like this and go on living? I may not buy into his brand of cosmic nihilism, but that's not important. What matters is, this is the work of a genius at the top of its game. I don't suppose it needs my recommendation, since if you've read the other three books you're not likely to just leave it at that, but I will nonetheless put all my powers of persuasion behind it. Not to be missed.

"Spring Snow" was brilliant and breathtakingly beautiful. "Runaway Horses" was Spartan, brave and controversial. "Temple of Dawn" was somewhat boring, but decadent in an atractive sort of way. Here comes the last part, which is a real culmination of the tetralogy. It is intellectually stimulating, highly mystical and very personal. Is it also very sad and pessimistic. It is a book about death and nihilism. Main characters are brilliant. It is of course Honda - the man of Reason, who is more real and attractive and complete as a person than in any previous book, but also a rich hedonistic lesbian destroyed by old age, Toru - the last reincarnation of Kiyoaki, who lost all his powers of uncompromising life and beauty, mad ugly girl, who believes she is very beautiful, mysterios enlightened Satoko, and the main protagonist of the novel - Japan the Great that greadualy lost her uniqueness and tradition and spirit during the infamous XX century and now is close to death. Particulary powerful is the scene when Honda visits beach made famous by ancient No play about the decay of the angel, and discovers that this harmonic holy place is desecrated by tourists with countless fast-food bags and Cola cans scattered all over it. Also the last few pages is the very best ending I've ever read. And dont forget about translation. Seidensticker is really superior to any other translator from Japanese to English.

This book is the concluding part to the Sea of Fertility quartet by Mishima--generally considered his magnum opus. As an individual book it is inferior in characterisation, plot strength and beauty of expression than Spring Snow and the third book but better than Runaway Horses (book 2). However the ending is so stunning and original that it leaves one mentally exhausted and yet thrilled. The ending turns the whole story so far (from Book 1) on its head and for that reason I will not disclose it. Suffice it to say that of all the books I have read this has the most unexpected and mind-bending ending. I was left in awe! In conclusion it is a fitting ending to a most brilliant quartet of novels for those readers who want more from their novels than just a story. This quartet deals with the most important ideas of human existence and is very challenging yet what makes it unique is Mishima's magical, poetic, and mesmerising control of language and diction. Engaging, thrilling, difficult, philosophical, beautiful, brilliant.(The quartet as a whole is 5 stars, this book on its own I would give 4 stars.)

On November 25, 1970, Yukio Mishima went to a Japanese army base. He was accompanied by a number of his young admirers, who called themselves the "Shield Society" and sought to embody an idealized Japanese martial tradition. Together with these followers, Mishima held the commander hostage and demanded that the soldiers at the base be gathered together. He stepped out onto the balcony and gave a fiery speech in which he encouraged the soldiers to overthrow the government and restore power to the Emperor. The speech was soundly mocked and ridiculed. Mishima returned inside and killed himself in the way prescribed by the samurai code, by slashing open his stomach with a Japanese sword. He was forty-five years old. That very same morning, Mishima had finished his last novel, The Decay of the Angel. He handed it in to the publisher and only then went to his death. It was the last in a cycle of four novels which Mishima called "The Sea of Fertility." In doing so, Mishima put the finishing touch on the riddle of his life. After his suicide, many people tried to figure out his motive for conceiving and carrying out his failed coup. Naturally, the first thing that occurred to them was to search for the answer in his books. Mishima was a man who had many thoughts and ideas and was never shy about expressing them. Surely his final works should reveal his mind at the end of his life, as a kind of philosophical will. Surely. What kind of final thoughts might we expect from a man who was called a right-wing extremist, a militant nationalist? Perhaps such a man might use the closing paragraphs of his final novel to make a statement about the glory of Japan, or the honour of the samurai. Or he might rage against the corruption of the government, or a lack of morals among young people. But politics are completely absent from The Decay of the Angel. Not a single page of the book contains so much as a hint of the ideas that Mishima talked about in his last speech. It is as if those issues don't even exist. And now we turn to think about the entire Sea of Fertility. What was the final point of this last work, over 1500 pages long? Mishima repeatedly said that he knew it was his best work. Anyone who reads it can see the meticulous planning that went into the storyline. If Mishima didn't want to talk about the ideals that he supposedly held, what did he want to express? In the first two books of the tetralogy, Mishima described beautiful young people who were driven by destructive passions to their deaths. One fell in love with a woman, the other was roused by revolutionary ideas. Mishima's biographer John Nathan thinks that this was Mishima's point. He believed in passion for its own sake, and in his view such passion always led to death. For him, politics were just one way to achieve this exalted state. But doesn't the conclusion undermine this view? The Decay of the Angel contains no such depictions. More than that, Mishima undermines the value of the passi