A review by ichthusangel
The Vegetarian by Han Kang

challenging dark emotional mysterious reflective sad tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

When I was a few pages into the book, I read some guys say that they could relate to this book because they’re vegan— 
 WHAT???????

The title although isn’t misleading, The Vegetarian is a lot less about vegetarianism and rather about South Korean society, conformity (or the lack of), artistic lust, a person’s primal nature, schizophrenia, abusive and overbearing families, sexual abuse, trauma and metaphors.

A person first exists, and then do they create their essence. The protagonist, The Vegetarian, Yeong hye works constantly to lose her essence and merely exist. Exist in her most primal stage, where all thoughts, opinions and fears would evade her, and her existence would be like a tree’s.

Divided into three parts (primarily published as three novellas), The Vegetarian, Mongolian Mark and Flaming Trees.

  • The first part is written in Yeonghye’s husband, Mr. Cheong’s POV who married her because it was easy, not requiring much energy to keep their relationship is outraged when he finds his wife starts throwing away all the meat and is informed she threw away eggs and is giving up on milk as well. 

The reasoning behind it, is that she has a dream, a violent one, which she takes as a sign to renounce meat. 

“Try to push past but the meat, there’s no end to the meat, and no exit. Blood in my mouth, blood-soaked clothes sucked onto my skin.”

But the fear. My clothes still wet with blood. Hide, hide behind the trees. Crouch down, don’t let anybody see. My bloody hands. My bloody mouth. In that barn, what had I done? Pushed that red raw mass into my mouth, felt it squish against my gums, the roof of my mouth, slick with crimson blood.”

Koreans predominantly follow a non vegetarian diet. Almost every dish is a preparation of meat, or requires eggs etc., in such a society, becoming a vegetarian isn’t considered normal. She becomes a burden in gatherings, especially as she refuses to wear bra, follow pleasantries, bringing her husband immense shame while she stays unperturbed. Her parents are, similarly, disturbed with her giving up meat (and it takes an ugly turn which although, would be expected by anyone who lives in a similar society, still shocks). 

The first novella shows Yeonghye as a non conformist as she goes through vivid, bloody dreams (which continue despite her turning to vegetarianism) and body dysphoria (she views her hands, tongue, foot and gaze etc. as weapons, everything except for her round breasts, however, she doesn’t just become a vegetarian but turns into an insomniac and doesn’t eat well, making her extremely thin, thus even her breasts keep shrinking, edges sharpening as she plunges deeper into renouncing her physicality) while she is abused by her father and raped by her husband. 

TW// Gore, abuse, anorexia, forceful feeding, suicide attempt, suicide ideation and animal cruelty.

“A bird, which had been crushed in her grip, tumbled to the bench. It was a small white-eye bird, with feathers missing here and there.” 
It is a metaphor at the end of the first part that echoes in the third part. This novella is very Kafkaesque, reminded me a lot of The Metamorphosis

  • The second novella, Mongolian Mark is from third POV, focusing on the protagonist’s brother in law and the protagonist herself. A video artist, Inhye’s husband craves understanding as he plunges into an artists’s block, desperately searching for people who have similar vision as he has. 

The first novella mentions of Mr.Cheong being attracted to Inhye (his sister in law) and while this makes no more appearance as Mr.Cheong himself is no longer a part of the book, having divorced Yeonghye, the sentiment makes a reappearance as Inhye’s husband develops a sexual hunger for Yeonghye after Inhye mentions that she still has her Mongolian mark, a discoloured patch of skin that heals after babies grow older but somehow hasn’t in Yeonghye. A part that dives deeper into artistic sensuality, individualism, mental and physical infidelity, it ends with Yeonghye in psychiartic care (once again) and Inhye’s husband in jail. 

Yeonghye, who’d lost her sense of body and thus sensuality, for the first time shows lust— not for a human body but for flowers. This part is a deeper look into her primal being, as we come to the realisation that she isn’t depressed, or disconnected to the world, rather her energy is concentrated onto some other function because of which she has no energy to offer to the conforming world. 

TW// Rape, infidelity, pedophilic lust, animalistic behaviour and dub con pornography

  • The third novella, Flaming Trees, also written in third POV, focuses on Yeonghye and Inhye as Yeonghye spends her days in psychiatric care while we’re introduced to Inhye’s trauma and insecurities in form of what ifs.

The most mystical, deeply thoughtful, emotionally reflective novella, this part explores different perspectives and Inhye almost descending to her own world like her sister who’s now diagnosed as schizophrenic, but we also find how Inhye feels like she was never a part of the world, never having lived.

“The feeling that she had never really lived in this world caught her by surprise. It was a fact. She had never lived. Even as a child, as far back as she could remember, she had done nothing but endure. She had believed in her own inherent goodness, her humanity, and lived accordingly, never causing anyone harm. Her devotion to doing things the right way had been unflagging, all her success had depended on it, and she would have gone on like that indefinitely. She didn’t understand why, but faced with those decaying buildings and straggling grasses, she was nothing but a child who had never lived.”

The metaphor of the bird reappears here, which seems to utilise a black-white theme as well, quite like the black swan and white swan from the very famous ballet, Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. Everybody dreams but not everyone gives into them. We realise Inhye, despite the fact is the only one who cares for her sister, doesn’t want her stuff to remind her of Yeonghye since her sister’s existence symbolised a renunciation Inhye had almost done but couldn’t continue further (primarily because she was responsible for her child) but which Yeonghye had gone through. It focuses on what is, in contemporary times, dubbed as eldest daughter trauma.

“Why, is it such a bad thing to die?”

This part reminded me of Girl in White Cotton (Burnt Sugar) by Avni Doshi which is a book I absolutely loved.

TW// anorexia, suicide ideation, psychiatric care, schizophrenia, insomnia and past abuse.

[This book has affected me like no other has in any recent time. Would definitely read again, together with The Metamorphosis and Girl in White Cotton.]

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