Yukio Mishima’s Beautiful Star was first serialised in the early 1960s in the midst of a growing global crisis, it was the height of the Cold War and relations between the Soviet Union and America were disastrously fraught. Nuclear war looked almost unavoidable. A situation that made Japan a particularly vulnerable, potential target, since complicated post-WW2 negotiations had left them with a slew of American bases and a treaty that tied the countries together if an attack should happen. A development that had already caused serious unrest in Japan. In many ways Mishima’s story reads like a response to Japan’s political predicament but it’s a fairly unusual one. It’s centred on a wealthy but nondescript suburban family, the Osugis, who are living with a secret; the knowledge that they’re actually extraterrestrials inhabiting earthly bodies.

Mishima was a huge science fiction fan, as well as part of a Japanese organisation fixated on UFO sightings. His scenario builds on this fascination, as well as on tropes and plot points from commercial SF - his family are not unlike an extension of the pod people in the popular Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Social critique and science fiction often go hand in hand but Mishima’s take on the subgenre is particularly explicit, marrying intense literary realism, and documentary-like fact with fantastical forms of semi-philosophical debate. He intersperses accounts of flying saucers and glimpses of worlds beyond with aspects of Japanese cultural history as well as elements of Noh theatre – another interest of his which he felt had affinities with sf's hidden aliens and monstrous threats.

The Osugi family, who live in the shadow of the Johnson Military Base, believe they have a purpose, to rescue humanity from mass destruction. Leading their growing campaign for disarmament is father Juichiro, aided by his wife Iyoko, daughter Akiko and son Kazuo. Although as the story unfolds both son and daughter are caught up in “human” distractions. The Osugis provide an entry point for a searing examination of postwar Japanese society with its conflicted politics, growing materialism and emphasis on social status. Mishima brings in references to the disturbing mix of tendencies towards conformity in Japanese culture with its own brand of “red scare” linked to America’s virulent McCarthy era. The unassuming Osugi’s lack of interest in consumerism and social climbing marks them out for their neighbours as possible communist sympathisers, bringing a concerned public order official to their door. The Osugis are contrasted with a rival alien faction led by resentful academic Haguro. The Osugis want to bring harmony to an “unpleasant, disordered” planet. Haguro, however, is a nihilist and a misogynist, disgusted by humanity’s excesses and venal desires. His group seek to hasten rather than prevent all-out war. Mishima’s slow-burning narrative builds to a muted confrontation between these groupings, culminating in a curious debate about the nature of humanity and whether it’s actually worth saving.

It's a strange piece, initial sales were apparently poor and Mishima’s American publisher declined translation. But I found its quirky exploration of threats to existence, power, collective anxiety and alienation deeply intriguing and Mishima’s perspective on Japanese society compelling. It can be quite an intense read, and there are decidedly dry patches but it’s also laced with instances of absurdist, perversely deadpan humour. Sometimes deliberately provocative, in true Mishima fashion, sometimes verging on contemptuous - it can even be surprisingly tender. Mishima also treads a fine line between speculative fiction and parody, since it’s never entirely clear whether or not the Osugis are in the grip of a shared delusion, and he delights in introducing then subverting common sf tropes. At times this reminded me a little of Philip K. Dick’s dissection of American culture in his suburbia novels – that is if he hadn’t insisted on a strict divide between these and his sf work. In addition, Mishima’s story features stretches of marvellous imagery and memorably exquisite descriptions of the natural world – a stark contrast to his vision of man-made environments. Perhaps this divide is a means of highlighting his underlying preoccupation with existential questions, as Juichiro’s journey eventually brings forces him, and his family, to contemplate not just the meaning of life but how to live it. Although it’s a shame Mishima's women are so thinly, predictably drawn. Translated by Stephen Dodd.

yukio mishima’s beautiful star was only recently translated and it is quite understandable why.

this novel offers certain beautiful passages about love and family, the prose being characterized by its aestheticism and poetical flow. however, it doesn’t read quite like a novel. the hazy vignettes seemly unrelated to one another and the lack of control and connectivity in its literary occurrences make the book to be rather confusing and nonsensical. the narrative was certainly quite juvenile for this reason.

all in all, mishima knows how to craft a spellbinding sentence, but the storyline was too incoherent and perplexing!

A lovely new edition of a masterful tale from a complicated, timeless author. I’m a huge Mishima fan and so I was very glad to get a chance at reading this.

I wrote a long review and lost it.

Quite a good tale of ETs and UFOs. Juichiro (Dad) was concerned at the destruction of humankind and was trying to stop it, bad aliens were trying to encourage it.

Cleverly wrote in that it was written as an absurd story but in actual fact, take out the UFOs and all that and it was quite real and relevant.

Didn’t feel like rehashing a review so there you have it.

(Posted on Goodreads separately. Note to editors - formatting was really awful, I can usually handle this but the missing letters (namely f, i and l) meant my brain had to stop and complete words manually thus disrupting my flow)