Yukio Mishima’s prose is erotic. He shows us the surface and disguises what’s underneath it. And there is a complete philosophy beneath it... On the surface, [b: The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea|162332|The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea|Yukio Mishima|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1327629352l/162332._SY75_.jpg|880874] is a bright, vivid romance between a sailor and a woman, yet it is flooded with a dark, sinister undertone. Through a hole in his bedroom wall, the woman’s son voyeuristically glimpses into the intimate world of adults. This room acts as a borderland: between the old and the young, the sea and the land, the world and the universe.. It is here the boy asks himself the question:<blockquote>"How can I stay in the room and lock the door from the outside at the same time?"</blockquote> In a way we as a reader are this boy in the comfort of our room voyeuristically looking through a book into this panorama. For the boy, the sailor is a hero, an Übermensch, symbolizing an idealism and the pursuit of fate and death. (Hier müsste ich noch was schreiben, hab aber gerade kein Bock). Mishima demonstrates the radical incompatibility between absolute idealism and human reality.