A review by florencebrino
Spring Snow by Yukio Mishima

4.0

Even when we're with someone we love, we're foolish enough to think of her body and soul as being separate. To stand before the person we love is not the same as loving her true self, for we are only apt to regard her physical beauty as the indispensable mode of her existence. When time and space intervene, it is possible to be deceived by both, but on the other hand, it is equally possible to draw twice as close to her real self.

Delectable writing, disturbing characters; what a mixture.


* Review to come? Maybe on my blog.
** The Sea of Fertility:
Runaway Horses
The Temple of Dawn
The Decay of the Angel