You see, Kafka on the Shore left quite an impression on me. Among all of Murakami’s books that I have read, this one left THE strongest impression and the after effects were quite severe. So, all along I was reading The Vegetarian while KotS was still weighing on my mind, refusing to let go at all. Needless to say, it wasn’t the right time to read a book that needed attention to details. I sped through The Vegetarian, reading the words, but barely retaining any meaning whatsoever. As you can imagine, the impression was not good. And I am ashamed to say, it wasn’t the book’s fault, rather mine from the beginning. I read the book all wrong at the wrong time. Ever since it won the Man Booker International Prize this year, I kept wondering whether I should give it a re-read. Also, one of my favorite and trusted book bloggers, Clare, at A Little Blog of Books had praised The Vegetarian a lot, so I was intrigued, and finally, couple of weeks ago, I decided to give this book another go.
Man, it felt like I was reading this book for the first time ever! It is an extremely subtle book, and almost a mood piece, no wonder the subtleties were lost on me when my head was a mess after reading Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore. I almost feel like you need a calm and quiet mind to fully appreciate the subtleties in The Vegetarian. “Calm” and “Quiet” are not words I would use to describe the state of my mind right after reading the former. Anyhow, I’m glad I trusted my instincts and decided to give this book another go. And so, a new and revised review is also in order.
Since this is a review of a re-read, I will mention first some obvious (and rather stupid) mistakes I made when I read this book the first time. You see, the title of the book is The Vegetarian — this book centers around the character, Yeong-hye, who has turned vegetarian after having a nightmare — but the book is really focused on the three narrators who tell her story. The first narrator is Yeong-hye’s husband, the second is her brother-in-law, and the last third of the book is told from the perspective of her sister, In-hye. Each narration reveals a side of Yeong-hye, seen from the perspective of the narrator and is heavily influenced by the relationship between the narrator and Yeong-hye. All along we get an insight into the narrators themselves and how their lives are shaped by Yeong-hye. However, when I first read the book, I somehow expected to read a story about Yeong-hye. When it turned out that I was reading and learning more about the narrators rather than the perceived subject, I was a little… disappointed, may be? But that was my mistake, wanting something from a book that the book so obviously is not about. You see, the book is about Yeong-hye, but it’s also so much more about her husband, about her brother-in-law, and about her sister. Rather than a novel, The Vegetarian is more like a collection of three short stories, connected by one central character which is Yeong-hye. Once I figured that out, this book started to read like a completely different story than the one I read previously.
Yeong-hye is ill, very ill indeed. She has nightmares, and in an attempt to stop these nightmares, she decides to stop eating meat. But the dreams are not the problem here, the problem lies deeper. May be a troubled childhood, abuse from the past, or any number of things that can throw a person over the edge. The people around her are not the most supportive either. They do not understand why she would choose not to eat meat, or not be timid and obedient to her parents and husband and just do whatever she is told. The combination of mental illness and neglect can hardly have a happy ending. That’s Yeong-hye, that’s her story. A troubled, young girl with anorexia and schizophrenia, neglected by her family members until she is beyond any hope of having a normal life ever. In the entire book, there’s only a couple of times where we get a glimpse at the inner works of Yeong-hye herself. And what we see is not pretty. She is obviously ill, she obviously needs help. The monologues of Yeong-hye is like a cry for help, only no one is there to listen.
If you knew how hard I’ve always worked to keep my nerves in check. Other people just get a bit flustered, but for me everything gets confused. Speeds up. Quick, quicker. The hand holding the knife was working so quickly, I felt heat prickle the back of my neck. My hand, the chopping board, the meat, and then the knife, slicing cold into my finger.That little excerpt should tell anyone how disturbed Yeong-hye is. Only, nobody around her has realized it yet.
A drop of red blood already blossoming out of the cut. Rounder than round. Sticking the finger in my mouth calmed me. The scarlet color, and now the taste, sweetness masking something else, left me strangely pacified.
The Vegetarian is not just a story about a mentally ill girl; it is also a story about a dysfunctional family, about abuse, neglect, and much more. Its a story that delves deep into characters and tries to rationale the complexities of human nature. The way we see things are not always the way things are. Sometimes, the way we see ourselves is not who we are. In this book, a character is at times the narrator, and at other times, a subject; at times a spectator, and at other times, a participant. Through these various narrations and different perspectives, Han Kang brings about the true nature of each of the characters involved.
All I can say is that, while I failed to appreciate the book on my first read, on the second one, I couldn’t help but marvel at the intricacies of each character. A huge shout out to Han Kang, and a well deserved Man Booker International prize winner!
Title: The Vegetarian
Author: Han Kang, Deborah Smith (Translator)
Publisher: Hogarth, Fenruary 6, 2016
Format: Hardcover, 192 pages.
Genre: Literary Fiction, Contemporary, Korean, Gothic, Psychological
Source/Disclaimer: I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review.