ABSTRACT
On the morning of 25 November 1970, Yukio Mishima at the age of forty-five perhaps Japan's best-known writer rose earlier than usual. He shaved slowly and carefully, knowing that this would be his death face. All of them wore the uniforms of the Tatenokai, a small right-wing militia unit formed by Mishima which was dedicated to the service of the emperor and the restoration of traditional Japanese militarism. Back in the General's office, Mishima, according to plan, prepared for the rite of seppuku. In his hand he held the yoridoshi, a sharp foot-long dagger. Behind him stood the student Morita holding Mishima's long samurai sword. Like Hemingway and Norman Mailer, Mishima pursued manhood without respite. In the end, The Sea of Fertility, whose title promises all the richness of this world, evokes only what Mishima had in mind behind that promise: the barren landscape of the moon.
