The Vegetarian: A Novel

by Han Kang

Paperback, 2015

Status

Available

Call number

895.73

Genres

General Fiction

All Topics

Fiction

Collection

Fiction

Publication

Portobello Books Ltd (2015)

Description

"Before the nightmares began, Yeong-hye and her husband lived an ordinary, controlled life. But the dreams--invasive images of blood and brutality--torture her, driving Yeong-hye to purge her mind and renounce eating meat altogether. It's a small act of independence, but it interrupts her marriage and sets into motion an increasingly grotesque chain of events at home. As her husband, her brother-in-law, and her sister each fight to reassert their control, Yeong-hye obsessively defends the choice that's become sacred to her. Soon their attempts turn desperate, subjecting first her mind, then her body, to ever more intrusive and perverse violations, sending Yeong-hye spiraling into a dangerous, bizarre estrangement, not only from those closest to her but also from herself." -- jacket.… (more)

Media reviews

The Times of India

The strength of Kang's voice is in her refusal to smoothen the rough edges of her characters - they bare their scars and innermost vulnerabilities and yet don't appear drawing sympathy.

— 11 more

The Christian Science Monitor

What flows through "The Vegetarian" is an urgent need to detach oneself from the constraints of the human body, to transform and possibly transcend its limits completely.

SFGate

“The Vegetarian” is an existential nightmare, as evocative a portrayal of the irrational as I’ve come across in some time.

Entertainment Weekly

But The Vegetarian isn’t an anti-meat manifesto or an uplifting story of emancipation. Instead, in dreamlike passages punctuated by bursts of startling physical and sexual violence, Kang viscerally explores the limits of what a human brain and body can endure, and the strange beauty that can be

found in even the most extreme forms of renunciation.

Show Less

The New York Times

At first, you might eye the title and scan the first innocuous sentence — “Before my wife turned vegetarian, I thought of her as completely unremarkable in every way” — and think that the biggest risk here might be converting to vegetarianism. (I myself converted, again; we’ll see if it

lasts.) But there is no end to the horrors that rattle in and out of this ferocious, magnificently death-affirming novel.

Show Less

The Chicago Tribune

It takes a gifted storyteller to get you feeling ill at ease in your own body. Yet Han Kang often set me squirming with her first novel in English, at once claustrophobic and transcendent.

The Washington Post

It’s easy to imagine that in a society as restrictive as Kang’s South Korea, this novel could seem especially daring. For Western readers, what’s more shocking is the unapologetic sexism against which the heroine rebels.

Publishers Weekly (starred review)

This is an ingenious, upsetting, and unforgettable novel.

Kirkus Reviews

The book insists on a reader’s attention, with an almost hypnotically serene atmosphere interrupted by surreal images and frighteningly recognizable moments of ordinary despair.

The Australian

Kang writes in a coolly unsentimental style, and achieves a delicate balance of restraint and passion in a story pulsing with desire, betrayal and destruction.

The Irish Times

For all the graphic, often choreographed description, Han Kang has mastered eloquent restraint in a work of savage beauty and unnerving physicality.

Music & Literature

Yeong-Hye shows that total renunciation, the abnegation of the self, can be the most powerful agency we have. Han’s rebel, in other words, is also a literary one, questioning artistic convention in a peculiarly Korean way—and giving the rest of us a new sense of what it means to be hungry.

User reviews

LibraryThing member hubblegal

You don’t just read this book – you experience it. And I think many will experience it in different ways. It’s a terribly tragic story of madness, with violent dreams and obsessions.

The story is told in three parts. The first part is narrated by Yeong-hye’s husband and tells of

Yeong-hye’s decision to become a vegetarian and the mind-shattering dream that brought about this decision. This section covers her family’s reaction to her decision and is completely fascinating. The second part centers of Yeong-hye’s brother-in-law’s sexual obsession with her and his desire to incorporate her physically into his art. It’s a very sensual, shocking and frightening section of the book. The third part is told by Yeong-hye’s sister as she struggles to help Yeong-hye and to understand why Yeong-hye’s condition has worsened so drastically. This is a devastating, heart-breaking part of the book.

This book is well-deserving of any awards that are sure to come its way. It’s gorgeously written, compelling and powerful and not one that I will ever forget. Read it and be pulled into its spell.

I won this book in a LibraryThing giveaway.

Show Less

24 more

LibraryThing member Clara53

A dark perilous plot, so poignant with destructive overtones, almost a difficult read due to that; main characters portrayed perfectly, each having their essence revealed. Writing is certainly talented, even in translation.

LibraryThing member blakefraina

Han Kang’s novel, The Vegetarian, tells the story of Yeong-hye, a non-descript South Korean housewife who, after a disturbing dream, stops eating meat as well as all animal-derived products. The novel is divided into three parts, each told from the point of view of a person who is impacted in

some way by her decision. The first part is narrated by her husband, a callous, uncaring salary-man, who chose her specifically because she was unremarkable in every possible way. In the second part we see her through the eyes of her brother-in-law, an unsuccessful video artist, struggling to realize some vague pornographic vision. Finally, we see how her transformation and subsequent struggles with mental illness affect her sister.

This was a difficult one. It’s very dark with an almost constant feeling of dread hovering over it. But the story is truly gripping, not to mention that trying to work out the author’s agenda kept me turning the pages despite myself. It touches on so many large social issues – gender, conformity, moral accountability, as well as more personal things like family relationships, abuse, violence, rage and self-image.

Yeong-hye is repeatedly victimized, in various ways, by men who are either manipulative, predatory or just plain cruel. Yeong-hye’s husband is an utterly conventional corporate striver, so her inability to conform to his expectations and societal norms ultimately destroys their marriage. As an artist, her brother-in-law views himself as an outsider and projects his dark, lustful fantasies onto her in pursuit of his vision. And her sister struggles with guilt over their upbringing with a monstrous father who singled Yeong-hye out for abuse.

It’s tough to summarize one thing that this deceptively slim little volume speaks to; just when I thought I had a handle on the author’s over-arching “message” or theme, the book changed direction slightly and had me thinking about something else entirely. However, there is one particular instance of cruelty from Yeong-hye’s childhood (one of the few passages told from her POV) that strongly suggests her vegetarianism and wish to reject her humanity is a form of atonement for her role in a completely horrific act of cruelty, however powerless she was to stop it. But the story also illustrates how one person’s refusal to conform can have a domino effect on those around them - and how that might be viewed by many as destructive to the fabric of society. The writing is extremely confident and impactful. The author makes you almost believe in the plausibility of Yeong-hye’s physical transformation because her conviction seems so unimpeachable and her desire so ardent. This is a heartbreaking book that works on so many levels and touches on so many themes.

Depressing, but worth it.

Show Less

LibraryThing member Sharon.Flesher

I requested an Advance Reader's copy of this book after seeing it praised in a British newspaper.

This is a dark, joyless novel. The central character is Yeong-hye, a young wife in Seoul whose husband is startled to discover her removing all the meat in the refrigerator into a rubbish bag. Her

family and acquaintances (she seems to have no friends) are disturbed by her sudden refusal to eat meat with no explanation beyond, "I had a dream."

The story is told in three parts, each from the perspective of one of Yeong-hye's relations. Her husband begins with a first-person narrative of his wife's change in behavior. This chapter is disconcerting, mostly because of the extreme reactions other characters have to Yeong-hye's diet. They take her vegetarianism as a personal offense. At first, I wondered if this was a cultural thing; perhaps Koreans are not as accepting of individual dietary choices. But as the assault on Yeong-hye's diet continued, I wanted to give up the book because it seemed so ridiculous. I felt obligated to finish for the review. and I'm glad I did.

The second and third chapters, told in third person from the perspective of Yeong-hye's brother-in-law and sister, are riveting. I'll have to leave out further information to avoid spoilers. Basically, the first chapter, annoying as it is, is a set-up for the rest of the story, so tough it out. The payoff comes.

Author Han Kang probes the bleaker aspect of human relationships, of our struggle to understand others and to make ourselves understood. She has created complex characters and courageously explored the perplexities of mental illness. Reading this is not likely to make you happy, but it will give you plenty to talk about if you read it with a friend.

Show Less

LibraryThing member The_reading_swimmer

There are those massive tomes that you can get through in a couple of days or the short books that take you ages to read and digest. I just finished one of the latter. I received an ARC of The Vegetarian for review. I knew that it was about a woman who decides to become vegetarian, against the

wishes of her family and culture. At 188 pages, I mistakenly thought it would be a quick, easy read. Boy, was I wrong.

I love exploring different cultures and books in translation make doing that very accessible. I selected this one as it’s a book in translation, originally by a Korean author.

With the book divided into three different sections, each with a different characters’ point of view (the main character is never one of them), it's an interesting set of perspectives on some very difficult topics. The novel touches on body politics, choice, sexuality, family responsibility, and society’s expectations, but mental illness is the biggest and most controversial theme present throughout the book. Each of the three sections could be read individually, but as you progress through, you get a clearer picture of the main protagonist, Yeong-hye, as well as the other characters, who also suffer through their own struggles.

The translation was beautiful and I enjoyed the language and flow of the prose. After finishing this book, I felt like I needed some serious thinking time to digest it. This novel is dark, intense, and covers many difficult topics. Trigger warnings galore. That said, this would be a good book club choice because there are so many controversial and difficult topics to discuss.

Source: Review copy from publisher.

Show Less

LibraryThing member PaperbackPropensity

The Vegetarian is the story of Yeong-hye, a woman who has a dream one night which moves her to quit eating meat. It is a downward sprial from there as Yeong-hye sleeps very little, loses a lot of weight, and talks less and less. Feeling trouble in her solar plexus, she does not wear bras.

The story

is told in three parts, in three different points of view. The first part is the most disturbing, told in her husband's point of view. Her husband, Mr. Cheong is a man who does not like unordinary things, and we see what happens inside him when the unremarkable woman he is married to becomes stranger and stranger.

Part two is Yeong-hye's brother in law's perspective, though this time the narration is third-person so we never get quite as intimate a view of his world. Still, it is the strangest and most compelling part of the novel as he is an artist who becomes fixated with Yeong-hye, neglecting his wife in order to work on a project inspired by his sister-in-law.

Finally part three, third person narrative of In-hye, Yeong-hye's older sister. This is where we begin to learn a little more about Yeong-hye's past. The novel goes from strange to downright sad and though it was clear this should have been the most touching part of The Vegetarian, I felt there was something missing that kept me from finding it all as beautiful as the reviews claimed it to be.

Show Less

LibraryThing member michigantrumpet

A stunning tale of YEONG-HYE, a young Korean wife and sister, who quietly one day disavows meat and empties her refrigerator of any trace of it. This small independent spark is seen as an affront to her husband, family and Korean society. YEONG-HYE is largely voiceless. Her story is told through

the perceptions and renditions of three narrators in a triptych of tales. The first is her middle management, unremarkable husband, who has chosen her as his wife largely because he deems her even more unremarkable than he. He is puzzled by her refusal to eat flesh and threatened by her unwillingness to explain why. His portion of the book culminates with a frightful scene at a family gathering in which YEONG-HYE is confronted for her intransigence. The second section concerns her filmmaker brother-in law whose heyday may have already passed him by. He fixates on a birthmark on YEONG-HYE’s back and how her painted nude body might figure into an “art” (read: lightly pornographic) film. The final third of the book is told from the perspective of YEONG-HYE’s sister who struggles to care for the now institutionalized vegetarian.

This book is the winner of the Man Booker International Award. Kang’s writing is spare and direct but packs a lot of punch. There have been a lot written as to how Korean cultural sensitivities towards food (and meat) differ from Western sensibilities. I know little about that and am somewhat suspicious when I read other’s position on this. To me the book is far more about how we treat the “other”, those who are different. YEONG-HYE’s small act of personal defiance comes at great cost as she is beset upon by her husband, family and then society. Even under the guise of caring – lovingly, romantically, or medically – YEONG-HYE is instead subjected to increasingly brutal and violent acts of violation. At its most intense points, the book also shows YEONG-HYE’s withdrawal from the world in surprisingly lyrical fashion. Not for the squeamish, but those who stick with the book will be rewarded with an affecting tale of honesty and emotion.

Show Less

LibraryThing member bragan

Kim Yeong-hye has always been an unobtrusive woman, quietly submitting to life with her callous, colorless husband. Until she has a terrible dream, becomes repulsed by the idea of eating meat, and begins to withdraw from life entirely, despite her family's appalling efforts to force her to behave

as they expect her to.

This is a disturbing, deeply uncomfortable book. Not so much because terrible things happen in it, although they do, but because it does entirely too good a job of evoking a distressing, oppressive atmosphere, of crawling into your brain somehow and planting in there the sense that life itself is a stifling, inescapable trap. Or... something like that, anyway. I find it remarkably hard to describe, but the back cover copy calls it "Kafkaesque," and maybe that's the best word for it, because, now that I think about it, that is exactly what Kafka's writing also does.

I can't say I exactly liked or enjoyed reading it. But I definitely respect it.

Show Less

LibraryThing member gendeg

The Vegetarian by Han Kang is about Yeong-Hye, a woman who decides one day to stop eating meat. She gives no reason for her abrupt decision, just tells her husband Mr. Cheong that she had a dream. She doesn’t go into the details to explain herself to her baffled husband, for whom she has no real

affection, but readers know that the dream was filled with violence and aggression. The Vegetarian starts with a dream and ends with Yeong-Hye being checked into a mental hospital.

The Vegetarian is a three-parter, a kind of triptych of sorts. In the first third of the novel, we get Mr. Cheong’s perspective. He’s a relatively dull man, unambitious middle manager at a mediocre job. By all accounts, ordinary. His safe but boring life is completely turned upside down though when he finds his wife standing in the kitchen throwing out all the meat from the fridge. She takes a stand and later this stand lands her in the psych ward (after a particularly gut-wrenching scene with her family at the dinner table).

The second part is told from the point of view of Yeong-Hye’s brother in law, an artist who experiences a slew of strange erotic visions that he conflates with Yeong. The obsession with Yeong grows to such a destructive level that it ultimately craters his own marriage.

The final part of the book focuses on Yeong’s final descent into madness. It’s a bracing and poignant section, seen through the eyes of Yeong-Hye’s older sister.

This short novel seems like a standard social protest set-up—one woman’s stand against social convention, a kind of self-immolation to make a statement. But what is that statement exactly? It’s not clear. It has nothing to do with vegetarianism or the ethics of eating meat though, even though that prefigures in the beginning. At the same time, I don’t think the author is trying to posit any alternative to convention and ‘normalcy.’ She just wants to shatter it, to show that Yeong-Hye’s reality is fragile, an almost kind of Ponzi scheme in which we’re all complicit.

Other critics have said The Vegetarian is a celebration of the ego’s disintegration. I wouldn’t disagree. Yeong-Hye at the end of the book thinks she’s turning into a tree. But I don’t think it’s portrayed as a tragedy. Yeong-Hye is coming alive inside, even as she’s wasting away on the outside. Symbolically, she’s liberating herself from the social structures of Korean society, family, domestic life, and even sanity itself. It’s kind of refreshing, I think, to see this expressed so explicitly. No righteous anger and rage here, but something … more transcendent. The quiet protest thrumming through this novel starts innocuously enough but later presses violently against the fences of society’s conventions and mores, and those conventions and mores give way under the pressure—and not just for Yeong-Hye but for those around her. It’s a novel very much about how bottled up emotions can ultimately shatter right through any outward passivity and how everyone is affected by the fallout.

What’s most compelling about The Vegetarian is how it conveys so much about latent rage and sorrow and lust with such simple, sometimes mundane prose. It’s filled with frictions and contradictions like the strangeness-paired-with plainness of a Haruki Murakami novel. An excellent debut (in English, translated) by Han Kang.

Show Less

LibraryThing member JBarringer

I received my copy of this book free from the publisher in exchange for a fair review.
I actually received my copy of this book a while ago, but it got mangled in the mail. I put it under a pile of books to help it flatten out, and found it again a few weeks ago, still a little rumpled, but much

more readable.
This novel is about a Korean woman who has a dream and becomes a vegetarian overnight. Her family is bizarrely disturbed by her new diet, and she is oddly unable to be vegetarian without starving. As someone who grew up vegetarian I found it very hard to relate to this part of the story, because I know from experience how easy it is to be healthy while eating vegetarian. Also, as is very briefly mentioned in the story, there are Buddhists in Korea who are vegetarian, and restaurants that cater to their dietary needs. So, the family's issues are with conformity, not food, I guess, but it seemed a bit too contrived.
The rest of the book reveals that this woman is maybe schizophrenic, or at least that is how mental health professionals see her, and certainly no one is interested in asking her about why she is vegetarian or why she is acting the way she does. If they do ask, it is just to elicit a response, not to actually try to understand. Perhaps she is actually schizophrenic, or maybe something supernatural is going on, and no one cares enough to see what is really happening.
For a short novel, this certainly is a story with a lot going on, and I could see it as a great book club book. I enjoyed it, though it is not one of my favorite books for this year, and I did appreciate the notions of conformity and individuality that the story brings up.

Show Less

LibraryThing member RidgewayGirl

Korean author Han Kang's slender novel tells the story of Yeong-hye, a woman who seeks a sort of self-annihilation, first through becoming a vegetarian and then in other ways. Yeong-hye's story is told in the form of three short stories told from the points of view of her husband, then a

brother-in-law and finally her sister. As Yeong-hye's behavior becomes less and less comprehensible to her family, their reactions spark changes in how they experience the world.

This is an unusual book, but it repays the reader, becoming more fascinating as the story continues. Her husband believes that his wife is unremarkable in every way and he takes her vegetarianism as an insult to him. He is especially outraged by the idea that he will no longer be served meat at breakfast, the meal his wife prepares for him. As his discomfort increases, his behavior becomes more extreme. The brother-in-law, far from being repulsed by her, is intrigued and then obsessed. As an artist, he begins to center a new project around her body. And then her sister tells the final story, rounding out Yeong-hye's story by remembering their childhood together.

The writing, which is translated into English by Deborah Smith, is pared down, with even the most violent and upsetting of scenes described in a matter of fact way that suits the melancholy and lonely atmosphere of the novel.

Show Less

LibraryThing member bluepigeon

The Vegetarian is told in three voices, covering a few years in the life of a woman who stops eating meat. The first part is told form the point of view of the woman's husband who is baffled at the extraordinary decision his extremely ordinary wife takes, though he lacks any kind of empathy or

makes no effort to understand her. The second part is told from the point of view of her artist brother-in-law, covering the time after her first hospitalization to the discovery of the adulterous art work by her sister. The third part is told from the point of view of the sister, who is the only one left who seems to care about her sick sister, visiting her in the hospital as she continues to refuse to eat and wastes away in her efforts to become a tree.

Needless to say the book provokes the senses and brings about many emotions. There are many relationships that are explored directly and indirectly, between husband and wife, sisters, mother and daughter, father and daughter... Each narrator tries to question what is happening, but the conclusion seems to be the same: nobody can understand the vegetarian, why she has stopped eating meat, what she wants to accomplish, what her motives are. While the husband dismisses her actions as the confused deeds of a psychologically weak person, the brother-in-law is drawn to her tenacity and apparent strength against all odds. Her sister seeks answers more in their shared past. Regardless, the true motivations of the vegetarian remain vague at best. It seems that she is having an existential crisis; she desires not to be a meat-eating human, but a vegetable or a tree or something more passive, connected to earth, feeding with sunlight and rain instead of chewing food.

Though the book is emotionally charged from beginning to end, it is difficult to feel for any of the characters. It is certainly difficult to understand the main character. This is partly because all we know about her is through the eyes of others, none of whom seem to know her that well. Perhaps this is why the last part comes across as more cohesive and effective; her sister seems to understand the vegetarian best. But as a result of never getting close to a convincing meaning to her decisions, the story seems like an allegory, one that is difficult to follow or understand. One wonders if the vegetarian represents Korea, determined to purge itself of past sins and return to a more innocent existence, or become more at one with Nature, or if she represents a yearning for those things, or an abused, misunderstood existence... Soon after the first ten pages, such possibilities cloud the mind as the reader tries to make sense of just what the author is trying to do or say. It is impossible not to draw parallels that years of literature has taught us (motherland as abused woman, etc.) and without clear or convincing guidance, it is easy to stray in many directions.

All in all, The Vegetarian is an intriguing and provocative read for those who lie to be puzzled by the mysteries of the psyche.

Many thanks to Library Thing and the publisher for an ARC of this book.

Show Less

LibraryThing member cattylj

I'm a fan of open endings, psychological breaks, and bizarro premises, but this didn't hit the right note for me. This is my first dip into Korean literature and I was not ready for it. I think I need some short stories or something to warm up to the general atmosphere before diving into something

like this. I just don't see what all the raving is about, maybe I wasn't in the right mindset. Dark, yes, but this didn't feel particularly deep or intriguing. The characters felt pretty flat, especially the main character, and I was so flipping confused at the end. I just......don't get it. I feel so ashamed.

Show Less

LibraryThing member W.MdO

Huh. Not sure at all what to say about this book. Thankfully it got better in the second half, but the beginning was tough. Maybe it was the style of writing and I'm not used to it? Regardless, toward the end I began to think that I was "getting it" but truly I never did. Get it, I mean. I read the

last paragraph and felt relief (yay I did it! And it only took me a month of avoiding it!) and disappointment (I finished it and that was it?) Spoiler (maybe?) this book was a serious downer.

To be honest, this felt a bit like eating healthy breakfast cereal. You feel like you're doing the right thing because it's supposed to be such an important meal and hey, at least you're getting your fiber in! And then you hear the news and whatevs, breakfast isn't that crucial anyway and you're like um, can I get a glass of water please? And a donut, too. Thanks.

Show Less

LibraryThing member catscritch

“I had a dream…” Not a vision, not a hope, but honestly life changing sleep induced nightmares. This beautifually written and translated Korean novel is intoxicating. Not only for the foreign attitudes and incredible imagery, but for the ability to entwine you in the vines of unnatural nature

in both man and environment. How often do we awake and shake off hazy dreams or take them seriously enough to change our outlook on life forever? I finished the book shaken and unsure but knowing these characters have taught me some truths of the soul. Breathtaking!

An advanced copy of this book was provided for an honest review.

Show Less

LibraryThing member bcquinnsmom

“Before my wife turned vegetarian, I always thought of her as completely unremarkable in every way.”

With these words, we're off into the world of “The Vegetarian,’’ which centers around a South Korean housewife whose decision to stop eating meat leads to some shocking and unexpected

consequences, not just for her, but for everyone in her personal orbit. You wouldn't think that becoming a vegetarian would be such a big deal, but it's what lies beneath her decision that's fascinating and slowly teased out in the reading, along with how this woman's choices affect her family for years afterward. There is so much going on in this little book -- it's really quite impossible to summarize it in any good way without giving away the show.

I put it down after finishing it and couldn't move for the longest time, just sort of stunned at how powerful it is. That was yesterday. Today, I'm still haunted by it and in the space of the last 24 hours (okay, except for sleep time), I've been recommending it to everyone I know. Bleak, dark, and definitely disturbing, it's also extremely moving, and it's one of my favorite books of the year so far. I will say that if you read just for storyline or plot, you'll miss way too much of what's going on here. It's a good book for people who enjoy a challenge, and especially for people who like to step away and think about what they're reading. It's burrowed into my skin and will probably stay there for a very long time.

Thanks so very much to whoever picked me to read this book for LT and to the publisher for my copy. I loved it.

Show Less

LibraryThing member dallenbaugh

A disturbing story told in three parts of a young woman's spiral into mental illness. The first part is told by the husband Mr Cheong who treats his wife with indifference and sees her only as someone who meets his every need. The wife begins having disturbing dreams leading her to being revolted

at the sight of meat and gradually leading her to disregard any of her husbands wishes. During a scene with her family we begin to see the abuse she endured as a child especially from her father.

The second section is especially disturbing as we see her brother-in-law, a video recording artist become sexually obsessed with Yeong-hye who is now divorced from her husband. Yeong-hye is almost completely passive as often violent events unfold between her and her brother-in-law.

The third section with yet more alarming scenes is narrated by Yeong-hye's sister In-hye. In-hye has divorced her husband and has had to commit her sister to a mental institute where she refuses to eat anything and so she is force fed. We get a further glimpse into their early family life where Yeong-hye took a passive role in order to survive, and In-hye realizes she had taken the competent, virtuous child role also to survive.

This is not an easy book to read but it leads to many questions about the role of women in society and the role of family abuse contributing to mental illness, and then how to treat and protect the mentally ill. If you are looking for a book about vegetarianism, despite the title this is not the book for you.

Show Less

LibraryThing member wevans

Thematically dense with no easy answers, this compelling short novel gazes at its central character from three different perspectives without ever managing to see her clearly. Yeong-Hye's turn to vegetarianism accompanies a liberation from social convention and oppressive family structures, while

the other individuals in her life are preoccupied with the meanings they've created for her in their own lives. She herself remains elusive, and seems entirely content to dissolve through their fingers - even at the cost of her own sanity and life. A ruminative, poetic volume punctured by startling moments of violence.

Show Less

LibraryThing member spbooks

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.

Show Less

LibraryThing member msf59

A young South Korean couple are living a contented life and one day the wife, Yeong-hye, has a dream and she decides to become a vegan. As this wicked obsession completely envelops the couple, it begins to completely alter their lives.

It is told in three equal parts, each, with a different

perspective. The first part, from the husband's POV, is pretty decent and then we switch to the creepy brother-in-law, which is my favorite section. A blend of Hitchcock and Murakami, which is indeed high praise and then we finish with Yeong-hye's sister, the weakest part of the book. So, this becomes a mixed bag for me and it is obvious the author has talent, I just wish she could have maintained the “highs” she created in the middle.

Show Less

LibraryThing member varwenea

A curiously complex tale that in an odd way, almost has nothing to do with being a vegetarian. (To be exact, she became a vegan, but maybe that’s not as intriguing of a title.) Yeung-hye, after waking from a horrific blood-soaked nightmare, instantly declared herself and the household to be

vegan. All the meat and eggs were tossed from the fridge; her leather shoes were tossed too (at least she didn’t throw her husband’s shoes away). The sudden turn of events was a shock to her husband and her family. Her continued nightmares led to her declining health and detachment to social norms, resulting in a domino effect of worsening events for her and those around her.

The story is told in three parts – the first is from her husband mixed with her thoughts in italics which conveniently explains the nightmares, the second is from her brother in law, the last is from her elder sister. With all is happening TO HER, it’s somewhat irritating that the viewpoints are from others, not her. She’s the protagonist without a voice, which is a truth in her life, being the subject to her father’s abuse and later being the benign, obedient wife – until she wasn’t. Her will to do something, anything about the nightmares broke the chains that bind her to expectations – family, clothing, food, sex – nothing mattered. Unfortunately, society doesn’t accept those outside of the lines easily, and her physical torment continues as she found peace in her own lost mental world withering to nothingness.

This Kafkaesque book has all the Kafka recipe of alienation (family), existential anxiety (nightmares and the art sequence), guilt (family members), and absurdity (frankly, the whole story and the non-ending). The book has passages that are noteworthy – intense, passionate, raw, and even a bit erotic; the peek into the South Korean culture and norms is appreciated as well. Despite SIX pages of accolades at the front of the book and doing additional research to understand better, this book is difficult to like or to recommend. The characters are unlikeable, even the protagonist. The plot touches a bit on several critical topics but none in depth. By leaving things open-ended, the author seems to have escaped the responsibility of explanations.

Unfortunately, I doubt I can forget this book, so that hits the 3-star mark.

Show Less

LibraryThing member titania86

Yeong-hye is a normal housewife married to a normal businessman until she has a horrific dream one day. Afterwards, she gives up meat, refuses to cook it, and refuses to have it in her house. Her husband and family are scandalized and grow angry after they can't talk sense into her, but Yeong-hye

continues to refuse meat and her behavior becomes more and more erratic over time.

The Vegetarian is a memorable book split into three parts. The first part is the best because it's from the point of view of Yeong-hye's dull husband. He wants his needs met, his house clean, and food cooked and that's about it. When Yeong-hye refuses to have meet even in the house, his whole world is thrown into disarray. His once compliant wife now has opinions and won't do everything he says. He resorts to rape, which he describes nonchalantly, and trying to get her family to change her mind. They also resort to abuse, but Yeong-hye doesn't budge. The second part has Yeong-hye's sister's husband obsessing over and exploiting her and the last part has that same sister trying to convince her to eat anything at an institution. The narrative shows how restrictive and horrible society is for a woman and Yeong-hye's only escape from it is embracing her madness. It also shows how every man in the text simply uses women in one way or another and it's completely socially acceptable. The ending is pretty sad and hopeless, but realistic in the view of the world. I loved the first part, but the other parts weren't as strong. It kind of lost its way at the end.

Show Less

LibraryThing member NancyNo5

I don't like books that are translated from another language in to English. I find that the subtle nuances that the storyteller weaves in to her/her narrative does not translate well; sort of like trying to show sarcasm in a text message.

Read this book for my book club. It was short listed for

some award and I read reviews from people who have praised this novel as life changing, deep, artistically and poetically beautiful. Maybe in its original Korean but in English, not so much.

The protagonist of the story, Yeong-hye, has a dream, a very bloody, surreal dream, which compels her to become a vegetarian. From the story, I am guessing vegetarianism was not a widely accepted way of life in Korea at the time of writing. Her decision leads to rather dramatic interactions between her husband and her family.

In my opinion, the author portrays Koreans as almost backwards in their reaction to the Yeong-hye's choice and I kept saying to myself 'what's the big deal, she doesn't want to eat meat'. I could think of a bunch of other things that were worth worrying about.

There are also reviewers who praise the book as an outlet of the female condition. Didn't get that either. This was not about Yeong-hye being a female, well, at least I didn't think so.

If you read the book, try to get the original Korean version. I'm sure that would be a more enjoyable version.

Show Less

LibraryThing member klburnside

This book is weird. It is divided into three parts. The first part introduces Yeong-hye, a plain, dull Korean woman who has a series of gruesome dreams that inspire her to become a vegetarian. This decision is not taken well by her family, who stage an intervention where her father attempts to

force meat down her throat. It quickly becomes apparent that Yeong-hye's decision to become vegetarian is more than a dietary choice, it is a symptom of severe mental illness.

The second part of the book is told from the point of view of Yeong-hye's brother-in-law, an artist with a sexual obsession for painting flowers on the human body. His story intertwines with Yeong-hye's mental breakdown.

The final part of the book is from the point of view of Yeong-hye's sister (the artist's wife). It focuses on her reaction to her sister's mental illness and her own issues this brings up. I won't say too much for the sake of spoilers. It was the only part of the book I sort of liked.

The book explores some pretty dark corners of the human mind, and is at times disturbing. I didn't find this book displeasing because it was disturbing, but rather because I didn't find the disturbing nature to be very authentic. It didn't reveal much about the human soul or mind or mental illness, it felt like it was disturbing for the shock factor more than anything else.

Show Less

LibraryThing member VioletBramble

Yeong-hye is a South Korean woman who decides to become a vegetarian after a haunting (and recurrent) nightmare. We are told her story from the point of view of three different narrators. Or, rather, we are told their versions of her story.
The first section is told by Yeong-hye's husband, Mr

Cheong. He relates how he chose her for a wife because she was completely unremarkable. Mainly meaning that she would not draw attention to herself, disgrace him in any way or damage his career. After Yeong-hye's nightmare he wakes up to find her throwing out all the meat from the refrigerator. (eventually she discards all animal products) Vegetarianism is extremely rare in South Korean society. So is nonconformity. After she embarrasses him at a work dinner their relationship becomes more strained and increasingly violent. He eventually divorces her.
The second section is related by her brother-in-law. He becomes obsessed with Yeong-hye after his wife, Yeong-hye's sister, casually mentions that Yeong-hye has a mongolian mark on her buttocks. He is an artist who designs an artistic/video piece around his sister-in-law. He paints her, his artist friend, J, and himself in flowers, highlighting the mongolian mark, and video tapes them having sex. In one of the few instances where we hear from Yeong-hye she asks "Will the dreams stop now?"
The third section is told by In-hye, Yeong-hye's sister, after Yeong-hye has been admitted to a mental hospital. At this point Yeong-hye spends as much time as she is physically able doing hand stands. She believes that by standing on her hands she will take root and become a plant. In-hye see's in Yeong-hye her own struggles, their shared experiences of growing up in a repressed patriarchal society and her own desire to let her dreams take over reality.
Except for snippets of her nightmare and the flashback of a horrific childhood incident involving a dog we never really know what Yeong-hye is thinking or feeling. The other characters don't know how to respond to Yeong-hye and her emerging mental illness. They each respond to her behavior in ways that project their own desires onto her and never bother to find out what she needs/desires.

Show Less

Fewer