Confessions of a Mask (1948)

Very interesting perspective of a misunderstood effeminate boy growing up in WWII Japan ( )

I've had this book on my TBR for about a year but after reading The Temple of the Golden Pavilion I had my doubts as to whether or not I would like it. I found that book to be slow and plodding and the writing never grabbed me at any point. At the start of the year I decided that I would tackle some of the books that I have been putting off so this seemed to be a good place to start. The subject matter is probably more suited to me than The Golden Pavilion.

The story follows Kochan through his adolescent years while he is coming to terms with that fact that he is gay. In the younger years of the story he just sees this as getting on with his male friends better than the females he knows. As this progresses he realises that he doesn't have the same interest in girls as his friends and this inevitably leads of quite a lot of soul searching. As a survival mechanism he develops a kind of mask to show the rest of the world that he is 'normal'. This even goes so far as to develop a relationship with the sister of one of his friends. He starts to feel that he could love this girls and is hopeful for the relationship until they kiss.

The writing is similar to The Golden Pavilion but this time I felt far more involved and interested in the book. Mishima portrays the pain and mental anguish really well and I found myself reading the book in big chunks. I did need quiet to read it though as there is a lot involved on each page. ( )

I thoroughly enjoyed this masterpiece. ( )

Pirandello sosteneva giustamente che nel.mondo è assai facile incontrare più maschere che persone. Facile indossare una maschera. Lusinghiera la sua capacità di irretire la nostra coscienza proponendo falsi orizzonti e spingendoci a indossarla sino al punto da dimenticare realmente chi eravamo o potevamo essere. La maschera ci consuma, fa imputridire il nostro volto e più passa il tempo più ci diventa necessaria, più è difficile liberarsene. Eppure, per quanto doloroso, gettarla diviene un sacrosanto.sovere non tanto verso il mondo, quanto verso noi stessi. Solo così potremo conoscere nuovamente il nostro nome. ( )

"When a boy of fourteen or fifteen discovers that he is more given to introspection and consciousness of self than other boys his age, he easily falls into the error of believing it is because he is more mature than they." ( )