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25 Report Meeting Ryuji on the way back from the chief’s house just after they had buried the cat was pure bad luck. —Yukio Mishima I won’t tell my friend I read the book he loaned me, beside the toilet, sick with flu. But something like seasickness set in when I started it, sometime after midnight last Monday. This incestuous 60’s Japanese novel, The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea —a “masterpiece of taut violence” according to the jacket, “Dense in substance, far-reaching in allusion,” says Nation. My bowels a broken faucet, my mouth a horror flick (certainly whatever was coming out of me could not be considered “dense in substance,” and you wouldn’t want to know why the cat needed burying), I finished and felt alright enough to quiver on my back and discover new patterns in the bathroom ceiling. ...