The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea - [Book Review]
As a great admirer of Mishima’s works, I was left rather confused with this book towards its ending. However, that is not to say that this book is not good; it is just that it left me slightly puzzled. First and foremost, can we talk of how beautifully profound the book title really sounds? It really draws a reader to pick it up and start questioning why it is that a sailor has fallen out of the sea’s favor. The title seems to indicate that he is afraid that the sea would take its revenge on him for abandoning it. A revenge that would not bring him honor but only shame. And the confusing preposition makes you think if the sea, along “with” the sailor and because of him, has also been discredited as well.
In a way it is quite emotional to think of a sailor whose life and work entirely dedicated to the sea is being punished for departing from it because of a woman; a confident and beautiful woman at that. This could suggest that the sea is terrified of her because of the burning passion the sailor has for her. Perhaps this is the reason for the sea’s disgrace — that it could not generate the sailor’s interest and love for it and its waves anymore.
On the surface, Mishima’s The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea is about Ryuji, a naval officer, who has a romantic relationship with Fusako, a widowed shop owner and wants to bond with her 13-year old impassive and collected son, Noboru. But on a much deeper level, the novel brings about strong notions such as vengeance, child abuse, fear, and everything evil and everything human.
Fear is one idea that consumes the souls of all three characters — for Ryuji it is not being able to attain “glory”; for Fusako it is Ryuji leaving her; and for Noboru it is being uncertain. Being possessed by the fear of not gaining the sea’s favor or of abandonment or of vagueness, respectively, the characters do acts that are viewed as surprising. Ryuji for not scolding Noboru for spying on the couple sleeping together; Fusako for agreeing to Ryuji’s idea for seeing the first sunrise of a new year; and Noboru for being clueless about his mother’s strong affection towards Ryuji.
I found the writing to be a bit challenging and the reason behind it is the terminologies surrounding ships. I had to reread the paragraph once or twice because I was so lost. I struggled a lot with the descriptions involving ships and sea. But I did find them beautifully composed; Mishima is a master of metaphors and vivid imagery after all.
There was a point in the book that made me want to put it down. It was the gruesome mutilation of a kitten. While I applaud Mishima for writing something so appalling that he could stomach it, I frankly could not endure reading it. The ending of the novella suggests something similar is to occur again. I find the irony of the book ending and a possible life ending quite witty. It is the left-up-to-the-reader notion I enjoy in Mishima’s works. We do not have to know everything. The empty feeling at the end of the book is a mere reflection of our own lives. So many unfinished stories, so many discontinued ones. Our lives are still continuing. If a book has ended, it does not mean the story has.
Mishima’s novella left me with more questions than answers, which may be considered negative but having questions is a sign of curiosity. I would recommend this book to those who are curious, and to those who enjoy the philosophies revolving around the human mind. It is a book about chasing false glory, the evil nature of humans, and the beauty behind an affair. Towards the end of the book, when Ryuji drinks the cup of tea, he is not swallowing the liquid but the water is swallowing him, drowning him, suggesting the sea has finally gotten its revenge.
tw/ animal mutilation
