What Happens At The Ending Of Beautiful Star?

The ending of 'Beautiful Star' is a wild, poetic ride. The Osugi family, convinced they’re aliens, reach this crescendo where their fantasies and reality can’coexist anymore. The dad lights the house on fire, thinking it’s his ticket back to Mars, and everything goes up in flames—literally. The mom dies, the kids are left picking up the pieces, and Mishima leaves you wondering if their delusions were madness or something more profound. It’s not a tidy ending, but it’s unforgettable. The way Mishima writes it, you almost believe they might’ve been celestial beings all along.

The ending of 'Beautiful Star' by Yukio Mishima is one of those endings that lingers in your mind long after you’ve turned the last page. It’s a surreal, almost poetic culmination of the Osugi family’s belief that they are reincarnations of beings from other planets. The father, mother, and their two children each think they’ve been sent to Earth on a cosmic mission, and their delusions spiral into something tragically beautiful. In the final scenes, the family’s fantasies collide with reality in a way that’s both heartbreaking and strangely uplifting. The father, convinced he’s from Mars, sets their house on fire in a dramatic act that feels like a return to the stars—or at least, that’s how he sees it. The mother, who believes she’s from Jupiter, dies in the flames, while the son and daughter survive but are left to grapple with the wreckage of their shared mythology. Mishima doesn’t give us a clean resolution; instead, he leaves us with this haunting ambiguity about whether their beliefs were madness or something transcendent. It’s the kind of ending that makes you want to immediately reread the book to catch all the nuances you missed the first time.

What really sticks with me is how Mishima blends satire with genuine pathos. The Osugi family’s delusions could easily be played for laughs, but there’s a tenderness in how their fantasies unravel. The son, who thinks he’s from Mercury, ends up in a mental institution, while the daughter, Venus’s 'emissary,' tries to move on but can’t fully escape the weight of their shared story. The fire isn’t just destruction; it’s a purification, a way for the family to 'return' to their celestial homes. It’s messy, ambiguous, and deeply human—classic Mishima, really. I’ve always wondered if the ending is meant to criticize their escapism or celebrate their refusal to conform to a mundane world. Maybe it’s both.