As I scan the comments, you're one of the few talking sense.
I'm a serious literature head. Mishima lives in a world that creates itself and then tries to impose that desired world on reality, dressing the entire essay in narrative poetry, like a ninja assassin he seeds poisonous concepts disguised as flowers in his readers heads. But their mental soil has none of the fertility of his mind, so they die in his fans, but his fans have fallen in love with his narrative poetry and that is what they cling.
I'm a serious literature head. Mishima lives in a world that creates itself and then tries to impose that desired world on reality, dressing the entire essay in narrative poetry, like a ninja assassin he seeds poisonous concepts disguised as flowers in his readers heads. But their mental soil has none of the fertility of his mind, so they die in his fans, but his fans have fallen in love with his narrative poetry and that is what they cling.