The Vegetarian: A Novel

A book of three parts, with each part told from the perspective of a different family member of The Vegetarian, who is sequentially depicted as a wife, sister-in-law, sister. Central to the plot is the descent of The Vegetarian’s mental well-being from ostensibly healthy to hospitalised and verging death. Parallel to that we see each of the revolving character’s own perceptions and dealings with mental health, both their own experiences and their reaction to The Vegetarian’s. I enjoyed the exploration of the transition from dream to hallucination, and the discussion of choice and agency in taking control or giving into dreams. The themes of fetishisation and consent were fascinating and important but disturbing and difficult to read at points, and evoked an uncomfortable dissonance as art and horror clashed. I think this is a 3.5 star read for me, cleanly written, thought provoking and at points beautiful. But I lacked any true deep connection or care for any of the characters - I wanted them to be well, sure, and I was interested, but my heart wasn’t throbbing in the way I know a story like this could make if told differently - possibly because we skipped perspective across the three parts, leaving me without any enduring true attachment or affection for any of them. Overall, a solid read but not one I’ll sing about from the rooftops.

CW: marital rape, parental abuse, force feeding, animal abuse, animal death, consumption of domesticated animals, attempted suicide, sexual content, forced institutionalisation, coercion, anorexia, suicidal ideation 🌟 Contemporary fiction 🌟 Translated from Korem 🌈 Set in Korea 🌈 Mental health representation This was... I don't even know the best word to describe it. It was more than uncomfortable. The Vegetarian follows Yeong-hye's spiral into an acute mental health crisis through three perspectives. Her husband, her brother in law, and her sister. This was complicated, equal parts horrifying and fascinating, seeing it play out from these perspectives, yet feeling like you get to know who she is from these perspectives. It touches on so many different aspects of life, from autonomy and agency, to mental health, complicated family dynamics, misogyny, and perception from those who only see the world in black and white, This review would be an essay itself if I had to touch on all these points so I'm going to attempt to be brief. From child abuse to marital abuse, it's easy to see why Yeong-hye's spiral began, although it is hinted to that there has always been the predisposition to mental health issues within the family, but red flags were ignored. We get to see this through her sister's perspective as she herself seemingly begins to spiral, and she constantly asks herself "what if" as she reflects on all these red flags seen throughout their childhood. Yeong-hye has never really had that sense of agency and autonomy afforded to anyone else in the novel. She's always to do what is expected and if not, received beatings as a child (and subsequent as an adult), she experienced marital rape, and nobody would respect her finally reclaiming part of herself by choosing to adopt a vegan diet, the only thing she can really take control over. The family reaction to the veganism was so extreme, and it's clear that it wasn't the veganism they held issue with, but the inability to coerce and control. Particularly from the male members of her family and social circle. The symbolism of the trees, from both a literary perspective, and cultural perspective, reinforces these themes of agency, as trees often symbolise strength, rebirth, and resilience. So in her moments of clarity where she expresses she wishes to become a tree, it read to me that she wished for that strength, that resilience, and the desire to be reborn as her true self with autonomy. One of the most beautiful things about this novel, is that nothing is ever explicitly stated motive-wise. And from others reviews and reading experiences, everyone seems to have taken something different away from the book. Whether surface level, or on a deeper scale, everyone's interpretation is so different and that in itself is fascinating. I think you should read this if you're looking for something really outwith the norms of contemporary fiction. I'd definitely take heed of the trigger warnings as it's very disturbing throughout. My only wish is that I could read Korean to have experienced it without the potential skews that can happen in translation.

Having flirted with the idea of turning towards a vegetarian diet for quite some time now, I was instantly drawn to The Vegetarian. When I was 17, I decided to give up meat for lent, to prove to a friend that I could and would survive for forty days without meat. However, when I got home from school and announced this news to my mother (Chinese), she was horrified. Although the vegetarian movement has grown enormously in the West, it is not wholly accepted in East Asia. This is partly what Han Kang explores in her phenomenal piece, The Vegetarian. Before the nightmare, Yeong-hye and her husband lived an ordinary life. But when splintering, blood-soaked images start haunting her thoughts, Yeong-hye decides to purge her mind and renounce eating meat. In a country where societal mores are strictly obeyed, Yeong-hye's decision to embrace a more “plant-like” existence is a shocking act of subversion. And as her passive rebellion manifests in ever more extreme and frightening forms, scandal, abuse, and estrangement begin to send Yeong-hye spiraling deep into the spaces of her fantasy. In a complete metamorphosis of both mind and body, her now dangerous endeavor will take Yeong-hye—impossibly, ecstatically, tragically—far from her once-known self altogether. First of all, I have to admit that at first I just didn't get this book. It was disturbing enough that I kept reading but it wasn't what I was expecting at all and when I put the book down I was very confused. It wasn't until after I had done a bit of research and read about what Han Kang was trying to get at that I really began to appreciate all the themes in this story. You're not supposed to understand everything that happens here and if you go looking for a "right" answer to everything then you've missed the point entirely. Told from three different perspectives, we see Yeong-hye descend into a sort of quiet madness through the eyes of her husband, her best friend and said friend's husband. Each chapter is very distinct and we get a glimpse at the inner workings of this family that once seemed "normal" from the outside. Kang shows us how our inner demons can haunt us and what happens when they finally break loose. There's conflict between father and daughter, husband and wife, sister and sister. Through these relationships and conflicts we are given a glimpse into Korean culture. Of course, this book is not representative of all Korean culture (I would be pretty worried if it did), but it certainly makes you aware of some of the stark cultural differences between the East and the West. Being half Chinese myself, I can imagine that turning vegetarian could actually have such a huge impact on your family. The plot seems a little surreal at times and the writing can be rather abstract. The imagery is disturbing and yet beautiful all at once. Kang weaves together these two notions, completely captivating the reader and compelling you to read on even though alarm bells are ringing at the back of your brain. Reading The Vegetarian almost brings you into a trance-like state, much like the leading character herself, Yeong-hye. Finally, I must say that The Vegetarian isn't for the faint hearted or the squeamish. Whilst I wouldn't go quite so far as to say there are "gory" parts, there were a couple of passages that made my stomach squirm. Make no mistake, this story isn't the happy story of how a woman moved towards a plant based diet - it is dark, it is disturbing, it is distressing. Kang's description of the protagonist through the eyes of her narrators is frighteningly compelling and it's certainly not a book I'll be forgetting anytime soon.

What a strange little book. I tried to think of something in my reading experience with which to compare it and the only thing that came to mind was Kafka's The Metamorphosis, but instead of waking up to find herself transformed into a giant insect, Yeong-hye awoke one morning from a troubled dream of blood and gore and cruelty and decides to give up the eating of all flesh; to become a vegetarian. For her avidly meat-eating family, a metamorphosis into a giant cockroach might have been preferable. They are appalled and outraged. At a family gathering some time after she makes her decision, they try to force her to eat meat. Her brutal father slaps her twice and forces a piece of meat between her lips, but Yeong-hye manages to spit it out and then grabs a knife and slits her wrist. As her blood spurts out, the only one who comes to her aid is her brother-in-law, while her parents, her husband, sister, brother, and sister-in-law look on. What is wrong with these people? Well, a lot, apparently. We learn about it all from three different sources: the odious husband, the brother-in-law, and, finally, the sister. The husband's tale starts with his description of his impressions on meeting the woman who was to become his wife. To say his was underwhelmed would be an understatement. To be fair, his description of himself is just as unflattering. I laughed out loud at the husband's sardonic depictions of the two of them, but it was the only time in the book that I felt any inclination toward jocularity. As his wife of five years makes her decision to become a vegetarian, all the husband can think about is how this affects him and what his employer and their acquaintances will think. He is totally self-absorbed. The brother-in-law becomes obsessed with Yeong-hye after the incident at the family gathering. He is an artist. His medium is videos and he becomes consumed by the idea of featuring his sister-in-law's naked body in his videos. He wants to paint flowers on her body and film her. She agrees to this. His fixation then moves on to filming her having sex. He persuades a fellow artist to allow him to paint flowers on his body and to be Yeong-hye's partner, but when it comes to the point of actually engaging in sex, the partner backs out. The brother-in-law then takes over - which is what he wanted to do all along - and videotapes himself having sex with her. The sister discovers them together. The last section of the book is the sister's tale and there we learn some of Yeong-hye's back story. We learn, for example, that she was an abused child. She was the middle child with her older sister and younger brother, and her father took out his rage on her. Her sister feels guilty that she did not do more to protect her or support her. Through the sister's eyes, we see Yeong-hye descending from a healthy vegetarianism into anorexia. She goes from refusing to eat meat to, finally, refusing to eat, period. She is diagnosed with a mental illness and hospitalized. Her husband divorces her. Her parents and brother abandon her. The only one who stands by her in the end is her sister. Yeong-hye is slowly starving herself to death, even as her sister tries to pull her back and persuade her to eat. She dreams of transforming herself into a tree. Finally, she asks her sister who is trying to persuade her to live, "Why, is it such a bad thing to die?" In Korean society, where societal mores are expected to be strictly obeyed, her decision to become a vegetarian and live a more plant-based life is seen as an act of subversion. This disturbing novel should evidently be read as an allegory about modern life in Korea, and about obsession and the choices we make, as well as our stumbling attempts to try to understand each other. This is an impressive bit of story-telling by a very talented writer. Just a note also about the translator: I read this book in English and it was a thoroughly lithe and graceful translation. The translator was Deborah Smith and she, too, is an artist.

A fascinating read. Very different to anything I've read before. I had no idea where it was headed and had to keep turning the pages on a very strange and tragic journey. Explores some pretty deep and dark themes - mental illness, anorexia, and the way we relate to people who make choices that are different to ours. A difficult but rewarding read.

The first reading I had from this author. Fabulous and deep. It is about the choice. It is also about the human nature. The choice that goes beyond the extreme. After this, I bought other books from the same author. Warmly recommended.

I really loved the book

The Vegetarian is a haunting and beautiful masterpiece. This book explores identity, desire, and rebellion in a way that is both unsettling and captivating. It’s a powerful, unforgettable story 🖤❤️