Death in Midsummer and Other Stories
- Daniel Warriner
- Jul 28, 2019
- 2 min read
Updated: Apr 7

Death in Midsummer and Other Stories is a 1953 collection by Yukio Mishima that was translated into English in the 1960s.
I’ve read a few Mishima novels and still can’t quite decide whether I like his work. Some of it I do. But some of his novels and short stories I didn't get much out of. I feel the same about this collection, in which the nine stories and one play are so dissimilar they sometimes seem to have been written by different people. Most of them, including Mishima’s modern Nō play “Dōjōji,” did not leave a lasting impression, but three stood out:
“Death in Midsummer” — A mother, her three children and her sister are staying at a hotel near the beach. While the mother rests in her room, the sister watches the children swim. When one of the children disappears, she rushes in to help but dies of a sudden heart attack at the shoreline. Two children drown; one survives. The mother must send word to her husband, who comes at once, unsure whether he has even understood her telegram correctly. The rest of the story follows the mother’s grief over the next year and the family’s return to the same hotel and beach, now with a new child. What makes it gripping isn’t just its themes of death and grief, but the ice-cold way Mishima tells it. In this and other stories, he comes across as a detached reporter of life’s misfortunes, with little room for hope. But his writing is undeniably effective. It's very descriptive, and he knows what buttons to push to get reactions out of his readers.
“Three Million Yen” — Much shorter than the others, this one follows a young, naive couple wandering through an amusement park as they wait to meet a woman who'll take them somewhere to do something (unspecified). By the end it becomes clear that the woman is likely selling them—two dreamers with Disney-sized hopes of money, babies and a big house—to wealthy middle-aged women for a sex show. Mishima is evasive about the details of their situation, instead focusing on the couple’s innocence and hopes. This builds a quiet empathy and leaves it up to the reader to decide whether they're victims or willing participants. It also feels like a subtle comment on the erosion of traditional values, especially among the wealthy.
“Patriotism” — Lieutenant Shinji Takeyama and his wife, Reiko, prepare for a ritual suicide in their home in Yotsuya following the February 26 Incident. It’s winter, and Reiko leaves the front door open so that their bodies will be discovered sooner. Mishima presents the act with a sense of solemnity and even honor, which is unsettling enough without the vivid, graphic imagery that follows. The story is hard to forget, not least because of Mishima’s detached style and the knowledge that he'd take his own life a few years later.
Would I recommend this collection? Not really, or at least not to someone new to Mishima. Once you’ve read more of his work and have a sense of what you’re getting into, Death in Midsummer and Other Stories is worth a look.
