Voluptuous Shoulders
This is a very erotic novel and so one might expect—or even hope—that metaphor would be used for that purpose. And, indeed, it is; Mishima uses metaphor throughout the book to enhance physical description of his two lovers. Like, for instance, this description of the woman’s shoulders as the man looks at her. As for the reference to the coast, remember this was written by a Japanese author. And a fatally nationalistic one, at that.
“Like the shoreline, they began with no real beginning, to slope gently downward from the cape of her neck”
The Peephole and What the Son Saw Through It
Essential to the narrative is the discovery of a hidden peephole that allows a boy to furtively spy into his mother’s bedroom. And what he sees there is often delivered to the reader through the lens of metaphorical imagery:
“The sharp hiss of the sash unwinding, like a serpent’s warning, was followed by a softer, swishing sound as the kimono slipped to the floor. Suddenly the air around the peephole was heavy with the scent of Arpège.”
The Sailor and the Sea
The romance and mythic quality of being a sailor is an important underlying thematic aspect of the novel uniting the woman’s son and her lover. Even a description of life on the sea is subject to the pervasive eroticism:
“To a man locked up in a steel ship all the time, the sea is too much like a woman. Things like her lulls and storms, or her caprice, or the beauty of her breast reflecting the setting sun, are all obvious. More than that, you’re in a ship that mounts the sea and rides her and yet is constantly denied her.”
The Confession
The boy at the peephole is struck by the magnetic quality of her mother’s lover as well, especially since he dreams of escape to the sea. Part of a strange cadre of friends, he attempts—and succeeds—in transfixing their attention on him with a confession of actions:
“That sailor is terrific! He’s like a fantastic beast that’s just come out of the sea all dripping wet. Last night I watched him go to bed with my mother.”
A Rather Pedestrian Group of Geniuses
The strange cadre of friends have convinced themselves—or, at least, been convinced by their leader—that they are special and so have been granted certain privileges. The outlook toward others, primarily institutional in nation, is shockingly mundane for so-called geniuses who are really the ones permitting others to do what they want:
“Teachers, schools, fathers, society—we permit all those garbage heaps.”
