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@dank-mishima

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People say this cave (Leads to Hell) Into this finely darkly excised devil's mouth No one has entered. It is a cave which guards an eternal riddle and mystery. Yet I stood before that insistent cave And called out in gentle words of love. But the answering echo Was not my present voice: It was the innocent voice of years gone by.
Yukio Mishima Ö Echo (1937)Â
"My objective is to create my own world and these images which we create mean nothing more than the images which they are. We have forgotten how to relate emotionally to art: we treat it like editors, searching in it for that which the artist has supposedly hidden. It is actually much simpler than that, otherwise art would have no meaning. You have to be a child âincidentally children understand my pictures very well, and I havenât met a serious critic who could stand knee-high to those children. We think that art demands special knowledge; we demand some higher meaning from an author, but the work must act directly on our hearts or it has no meaning at all. I wouldn't like to describe my pictures as allegorical: they talk about things that disturb me. If my account is allegorical, that is not my intention -there is no ulterior motive to reveal a hidden meaning.â â Andrei Tarkovsky, "Interviews"
I think Mishima greatly resented women while being able to identify with them (which of course he resented as well).

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âA scholar of nineteenth-century French literature defines the decadent hero as follows:
He is a metaphysical hero living Ă rebours, against the grain, a cerebral hero who is an aesthete, cosmopolitan, pervert, or all three at once. His roles are inextricably entwined. He is an ambiguous figure who personifies yet hates his society, one which he wishes to destroy yet cannot live without. This is the decadent agony. He is a megalopolitan primitive sentenced to life in the prison of the modern world. He abhors but feeds upon its artificiality.
In this precise sense we can say that Mishima is a decadent hero. He is metaphysical because of his world-weariness, because of his belief that he has lived too long, which leads him to reflect morosely on his peculiar place in time and space. He is cerebral because he rejects reality and lives apart from it in an alternate world he has created for himself. He is an aesthete for his worship of beautiful things and his obsessive cultivation of his senses. He is cosmopolitan for his attachment to the city and city life, a consequence of his disdain for nature and his love of artifice. And he is a pervert for his contempt for the ordinary and his insistence on deviating from whatever society judges to be normal, as manifest in his narcissistic efforts to transform himself into an object, his denial of feeling and compassion, his love of crimes and evil, and his hedonistic indulgence in eroticism.â
Yukio MIshima admiring his reflection in a pool like Narcissus. July 2, 2022. AI image generated on Craiyon.
I wonder why faces and composition are such particular challenges for what Iâm guessing is Dall-EâŚ
theres a mishima reading group going on, on the yukio mishima subreddit discord if youâre interested weâre gonna read & discuss temple of the golden pavilion this april
November 1970
âSensei, you really gonna wear those goggles for the 25th?â
âSAFETY FIRST â¤ď¸.â

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âTrue beauty is something that attacks, overpowers, robs, and finally destroys.â
â Yukio Mishima
Painting of Yukio Mishima and the Temple of the Golden Pavilion, with the phoenix ornament taking off. Â
source
âPossessing by letting go of things was a secret of ownership unknown to youth.â
â Yukio Mishima (via lennuieternel)
Yukio Mishima, The Temple of Dawn
These lines always reminded me of this poignant speech from Roy Chenâs take on âThe Dybbukâ, which in many ways far surpassed the original Ansky play (even though Chenâs tone is more one of mournful outcry against the revelation of existential futility rather than helpless acceptance of it):
âMan is born for a long life, and when he dies, where does the rest of his life go? The days of happiness and sorrow? The thoughts and actions that have been destined for him - what about them? And the children he did not have - where are they? Donât seek what is beyond us, the Lord is a mystery and we are all blind. There was once a man, exalted in spirit and profound in thought. In a flash his life was cut short. Strangers buried him in strange soil. Where are his days? The words unsaid, the prayers he never finished? A burnt candle can be lit again, but the candle of the life that is put out before its time - where does its fire go?â
Heâll be a cop, but he wonât even get a driving license.

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From the first issue of âWomenâs Meiseiâ in 1962 âYukio Mishima in the Childrenâs Roomâ Photo: Eikoh HosoeÂ
âI like to come to this room and immerse myself in the illusion of my childhood, aiming for when I have no children. (Omitted) From the horrifying world of mundane greetings, I rush to escape and hide in this childrenâs room.â
â Yukio Mishima
âA man isnât tiny or giant enough to defeat anything.â
â Yukio Mishima, âThe Sailor who Fell from Grace with the Seaâ
(You know, from the perspective of that last photograph, it really looks like when Jack makes it to the top of his beanstalk, he will merely find himself back at his fatherâs old hut.)
The past does not only draw us back to the past. There are certain memories of the past that have strong steel springs and, when we who live in the present touch them, they are suddenly stretched taut and then they propel us into the future.
- Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion  Â