“Not once had I been able to forget so entirely that a town was all hollow, all facades and make believe.”
Rikio Mizuno is a star, playing the leading role of a yakuza, followed by screaming young girls he cares nothing about.
I was exhausted. The girls could scream their way to hell for all I cared. Their shrill voices splashed over me like rancid oil. If only I could line them up and march them all into the mouth of an incinerator. (p. 22)
This jaded attitude is shocking from a 23 year old, just turning 24, who knows that real stars never attend a party even if its for their own birthdays.
It’s better for a star never to be around. No matter how strict the obligation, a star is more of a star if he never arrives. The question of whether he’ll show up gives the event a ceaseless undercurrent of suspense. But a true star never shows. (p. 27)
As I read, I found myself rereading paragraphs several times over, sensing that Rikio was speaking about the set as well as real life. The two seemed intertwined, almost indistinguishable from one another
I was no longer on a set, but in an undeniable reality, a layer inside the strata of my memory. (p. 34)
Over and over again, we are pointed to the isolation he feels. Certainly being a star does not bring the fulfillment he desires.
It’s useless trying to explain what it feels like in the spotlight. The very thing that makes a star worth watching is the same thing that strikes him from the world at large and makes him an outsider. (p. 47)
When the American Academy of Awards displayed the stars hoping to win an Oscar Award on February 24, 2019, I remained largely as unimpressed as I ever have been. Their empty world of facades and images means nothing to me. What is a star more than a flawed character filled with desparation at living for fame?
It’s become a tradition for me to pin up the life-size poster from my current project right inside the front door. That way every night when I get home I’m the first one there to greet me.
The self adoration is so ridden with loneliness it’s heartbreaking.
Written shortly after Yukio Mishima himself had acted in the film “”Afraid to Die,” this novella is a rich and unflinching psychological portrait of a celebrity coming apart at the seams. With exquisite, vivid prose, Star begs the question: is there any escape from how we are seen by others? (back cover)
An even more important question may be, “Is there any escape for a star to care about how he is seen by others?” Because one of the most freeing things in the world is to be fully secure in oneself, secure enough that it doesn’t matter what opinions others may hold.
I found this novella very piercing, one which had me pausing every few pages to ponder the subject of stardom, weighing it against the values I hold dear. It is one of the books for which I am hosting a give-away. If you would like to enter, leave a comment with your opinion on what it means to be a star. I will announce the winner a week from Sunday, March 17, 2019.