Yukio Mishima Confessions of a mask
Oh my, oh my. I love it so much! It is such a raw, sorrowful yet enigmatic and kinda liberating depiction of human condition. Because, to me, it is not only a story about unique and quite relatable queer experience (the constrution of "closet" in which we are often forced, but sometime we throw themselves into it voluntarily), but a reality of every individual living in a society (The Other vs The Normative and all of those masks we have to wear on a daily basis).
The meticulously constructed facade of "normal" the main character had to play everyday, the way he chased for things that he felt he HAD TO desire, the way he lied to himself constantly in order to achieve some kid of universal, nonexistent "happiness" just because that's what he was suposed. The alienation, confusion, anger, disgust and deep deep shame. It hurt me.
And honestly, Mishima's obssession with the contradictions that kinda culminated in his sadomasochistic homoerotic visions/desires, with the St Sebastian as a key figure of this Eros-Thanatos dichotomy... perfection.
Phenomenal book, highly recommended.