Despite its title, I would argue the novel is woven with the threads of jealousy and obsession rather than love. The beauty of the language also manages to shine through in the Portuguese translation:

“A vida – esse mar complexo e sem limites, repleto de destroços à deriva, transbordante de azuis e verdes caprichos, violentos, mas eternamente transparentes.”

"Life – this complex and boundless sea, full of drifting wreckage, overflowing with capricious blues and greens, violent yet eternally transparent."

Jealousy and insecurity regarding her husband’s feelings and conduct exacerbate Etsuko’s obsession and desire for control. Like a castaway adrift who finds a plank, she desperately clings to the opportunity to care for her sick husband

and watch him die

.

“Era-me bem mais fácil contemplar a certeza da morte do meu marido do que a incerteza da sua vida.”

"It was much easier for me to contemplate the certainty of my husband's death than the uncertainty of his life."

Simultaneously, the eagerness of her jealousy drives her to wish to abandon her life, which she indirectly does by

moving in with her late husband’s family and becoming her father-in-law’s lover

.

“Antes tinha desejado morrer com o marido – a morte de uma viúva indiana. Era um sentimento oculto, um sacrifício com que sonhava, um suicídio oferecido, não tanto em lamentação da morte do marido mas mais pela inveja que tinha daquela morte. O que ela pretendia não era uma morte comum, nem normal, mas antes uma morte lenta, que se prolongasse por longo tempo. Nas profundezas da sua inveja procurava algo que lhe permitisse nunca mais temer esse ciúme. Subjacente a esta ânsia sórdida, tão ignóbil como a apetência por corpos putrefactos, existia um desejo fervoroso de guardar tudo para si própria – talvez uma avidez sem sentido.”

"She had once wished to die with her husband – the death of an Indian widow. It was a hidden feeling, a sacrifice she dreamed of, a suicide offered not so much in lamentation of her husband's death but more out of envy for that death. What she sought was not an ordinary or normal death, but rather a slow death, one that would be prolonged over a long time. In the depths of her envy, she sought something that would allow her to never fear that jealousy again. Underlying this sordid yearning, as ignoble as the appetite for decaying bodies, was a fervent desire to keep everything to herself – perhaps a senseless greed."

I am amazed at how well Mishima managed to portray the inner musings and obsessions of the main character, in what is a portrait with depth. On the one hand, it is unsettling; on the other, it is a fascinating dive into toxicity and desolation.

The timeline of the novel also seems to make two overlapping circles: the first year, culminating with the

death of her husband

near the end of Autumn, and the second year, with the

death of her coveted house servant

around the same time. And is it not Autumn the season when the expansion of Summer culminates and withers?