Mishima's Sun and Steel serves as a deep meditation on the intersection of physicality and spirituality, rather than a conventional narrative. It delves into complex themes of mortality, sacrifice, and existential meaning through philosophical reflections. The work is a testament to Mishima's struggle to articulate the inexpressible, attempting to bridge the gap between the corporeal and the ethereal.

Mishima's Philosophical Exploration

At its core, Sun and Steel departs from usual self-improvement narratives, focusing instead on existential themes intertwined with the romantic idealization of death. This theme resonates with the works of prominent Romantic figures such as John Keats and Friedrich Nietzsche. Mishima, who was immersed in both Western and Japanese literary traditions, uses these influences to frame his musings. Central to these reflections is Mishima's belief that language veils reality. He compares words to "white ants," entities that consume the essence of truth, leaving behind a distorted version of reality. This notion underscores the difficulty Mishima faces in conveying experiences that transcend verbal articulation, resulting in prose that is often both thought-provoking and mystifying.

Symbolism and Imagery

Rich in symbolic imagery, Mishima's narrative frequently returns to the motif of the sky. One illustrative instance is his depiction of young men bearing a heavy shrine through the streets during a religious festival. Despite the physical strain, these men exhibit serene happiness as they gaze skyward, an act Mishima interprets as an acknowledgment of the inherent tragedy in the human condition—where the sky symbolizes this concept. This symbolism underscores the idea that physical exertion and the acceptance of tragedy are intertwined. Mishima's desire to cultivate his physical strength springs from his aspiration to grasp such insights.

Another potent image is Mishima's reflection on the sun's dual role in life and death. During his preparation for military service in World War II, Mishima experienced a revelation about the sun as a harbinger of destruction, casting its light on war's aftermath. This insight led him to seek refuge in literature, a retreat from the harsh truths illuminated by the sun. His subsequent exemption from military service due to a mild illness—a cold misdiagnosed as tuberculosis—left him dealing with themes of unfulfilled duty and loss, which permeate his work.

Self-Examination and the Quest for Meaning

Mishima extends his exploration to the metaphor of an apple, where the skin represents superficial appearances and the core symbolizes the soul's exposure to life's ultimate reality—the sun. For true existence, the core must be laid bare, thus embracing destruction. This metaphor eerily parallels Mishima's own life and untimely death, suggesting a chilling acceptance of mortality.

In his quest for an "ultimate style," Mishima aspires to match the concise brevity of kamikaze pilots' final words, which he perceives as the distilled essence of tragedy. His vision of this style evokes the entrance hall of a samurai mansion—symbolizing heroism and tradition, coupled with simplicity and the inevitability of death. This imagery highlights Mishima's belief that true comprehension—and thus true expression—demands both physical and existential exposure.

Intersection of Physicality and Spirituality

Mishima explores the inseparability of physicality and spirituality in Sun and Steel, emphasizing that human tragedy is best understood through collective experience. This is exemplified in the unity of shrine carriers or the communal sacrifice of samurai and kamikaze pilots. For Mishima, the ultimate sacrifice—dying for the emperor—symbolizes a death for the collective identity and cultural ethos of Japan.

The essay also reveals a personal dimension, with Mishima recounting his flight in a fighter plane—a metaphorical ascent into the sky where he perceives sexual and existential liberation. This journey symbolically aligns him with kamikaze pilots, offering a glimpse into their...