The Decay of the Angel - Yukio Mishima

neither movies nor plays. She passed her life before
a television set. They were very proud of the fact that
their other three children were married and on their
own, and only Momoko remained.
Old-fashioned elegance had thus become
shallowness. It was more than Honda could bear to
hear Shigehisa talk permissively of the sex revolution,
and to hear Taeko’s shocked responses. Shigehisa
used his wife’s old-fashioned responses as a part of
his act.
Honda wondered why he could not be more
tolerant. He knew, as it became more and more of a
burden to make new acquaintances, how difficult it
was to muster a smile. Contempt was of course the
emotion that came first, but even that was rather a lot
of trouble these days. He thought how much easier it
would be to respond with spittle than with words, even
as the words came to his lips, but words were the
task that remained. With them an old man could twist
the world as he might squash a willow lattice.
“How young you look standing there,” said Taeko.
“Like a soldier.”
“A very inappropriate simile, my dear. You must not
liken a judge to a soldier. I have never forgotten an
animal trainer I once saw in a circus in Germany. That
is what Mr. Honda is like.”