living.in.technicolor

In college, I worked in a library and to pass the time, I sometimes read random books on the shelves. One of those books was Forbidden Colors by Yukio Mishima, a ultra-nationalist Japanese author who obsessed with masculine bodies, led a private militia and eventually committed seppuku. If you search for images of him, you’ll likely get his decapitated head. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll get this:

Anyhow, Forbidden Colors was about this crotchety old man who uses this handsome, vain, empty-headed young man to seduce and emotionally torture his ex-wife. The young man turns out to be bisexual and frequents the 1950s Tokyo gay scene for admirers, worshippers and clients. The above quote is from one of his lovers, an middle aged man, hosts a swinging party for his gay friends and watches the young man carouse with other guests.

For me, out of context, I thought of the quote as a metaphor for how the gay community is sometimes. A lot of gay men seek ideals that can’t be reached, whether it means being insanely ripped (as Yukio Mishima wanted to be), sassy, monogamously loved and/or highly connected. Yet at the same time, these goals are so lofty that they set these men up for disappointment especially when their feelings are not reciprocated. I feel that the quote keeps me grounded. After all, I might not have everything but I have enough.