
Reviews

I’m struggling to figure out how to begin this review but honestly, if I didn’t know anything about the author and you told me Han Kang was a misogynistic man I would’ve believed you after reading this book.
I have no excuses to give to the author or the characters she wrote, or how she wrote them. First of all, the main character Yeong-hye stops eating meat because of horrifying, recurring nightmares. This, I understand. This I can relate to. Everything else happening around her shouldn’t have been written in my opinion. The way Yeong-hye is blatantly sexualized and abused and raped by her husband, not to mention force fed meat by her own father because they’re some “meat loving family” was awful and I cannot sit and read this and at the same time find nuance in this.
Chapter 1 is all about how Yeong-hye changes seemingly over night and how her husband can’t understand what’s going on, but he also doesn’t even make an attempt to help her, understand her or give her the opportunity to in honesty confide in him about what is clearly tormenting her. He sexualizes her. He complains about her. He rapes her. Multiple times. While having sexual thoughts about Yeong-hye’s sister. Instead he basically goes behind her back, gets her to her parents house for a dinner to corner her where her father quite literally holds her down by force and shoves meat down her throat. What the fuck.
In chapter 2, Yeong-hye is divorced from her husband (thankfully) but that doesn’t stop her terrors. Because now she’s being sexualized and taken advantage of by her sister’s husband because he learns about her having a mongolian mark on her ass which somehow sparks some weird fetish and desire in him. An artist who films himself painting her naked, then films them having sex, then films one of his art friends basically fucking Yeong-hye. No one’s helping her!!!!! The only reason she doesn’t end up having sex with this J guy is because he says “no, fuck you. why would you make me have sex on camera for an art project” (not a direct quote). The chapter ends when Yeong-hye’s sister walks in on her and her husband.
At no point in this book does anyone around her try to understand her, her illness or her plagued mind. They just use her, abuse her and lock her in a closed ward.
All this aside, the sexualization throughout this book, the SA, the abuse, everything going on left a horribly sour taste in my mouth and it was absolutely awful. To read something like this written by a woman baffles me, and if this was my first Han Kang book i’d never pick up another one again.

Not my genre... but the depth of each character and the sheer emotion in the literature leaves us in profound misery. The author truly knows how to linger in our minds....

I think this book is actually a 4.5 and extremely horrifying and compelling. Sadly, I read it while in hospital after surgery with many complications, and wow that was a bad idea!!! Do not read this book in a 5 day fever state, maybe wait until you feel pretty good.


Another amazing book by Han Kang, every read from her leaves me deeply reflecting what it meant for days.
A great reflection of the brutal treatment of women, from physical, psychological and sexual abuse, and its effects. Nonetheless, I am left wondering why we had 3 narrators, and yet did not hear anything from Yeong-hyes pov. Although I do kinda understand, and do not think it’s necessary, I’m just considering how the story would’ve changed if her perspective was included.
Very disturbing, raw and mind-blowing (in the best way)

That was quite a bit to process

I find it difficult to write in words what I thought of this book. I picked it up with the belief I would enjoy it, and perhaps going into it with any expectations at all was my downfall. I did not enjoy this book.
I hated all of the characters, especially the male ones. Our main character, Yeong-hye, was nothing but an object to all of them. To her husband, someone to keep the house orderly. To her father, a punching bag. To her brother-in-law, an object of desire. I was, rightfully, uncomfortable reading about all of these men– intended I expect.
Typically I am alright when it comes to uncomfortable topics, and this book does not shy away from approaching any of them. However I found certain aspects to be completely unnecessary. The focus on Yeong-hye's breasts was on that particularly stood out to me. The descriptions vivid, detailed, however in terms of the plot held no significance.
I also found the changes in perspective between the characters to be jarring, especially with the time passing between each of them. I found it difficult to follow along when the perspective changed to both the brother-in-law and In-hye's. I understand that the point was to be disconnected from the characters, but despite this I struggled starting each perspective because I had no idea which character I was following. It completely threw me off and I had difficulty in following along until I knew who it was I was supposed to be following.
Overall I think this was a very ambitious novel, and for me it did not hit all of the marks. Partly due to the translation I presume, I found the writing to be quite disconnected from the source material in a way I cannot put my finger on. I also did not enjoy the open ending. I am just not a fan of those.
On a more positive level, I found certain quotes to be very beautiful, which brought my enjoyment of the novel up slightly. I think because certain descriptions in the final chapter were reminiscent of a song I love.


3.5/5 I have very mixed feelings about The Vegetarian. On the one hand, it was a very depressing and disturbing tale, and I was tempted to stop reading it so many times, because some of the images were making me physically sick (especially the episode with the dog). But on the other hand, this story was very insightful and, dare I say, beautiful. I'm so confused right now.

I can confidently say that some of the themes of this book flew high over my head as a non-woman who does not live within Korean society, but I still found the characterization and dialogue thoroughly realistic & captivating, especially considering the extraordinary events of the plot. The book feels bold and confident in its writing, and the themes feel like they permeate every level of the narrative, from the amorphous dream imagery to the brutally concrete violence.

Intrigante

A book that leaves the reader feeling confused, eerie and unsettled, but that's precisely the point. Han Kang depicts the struggles of being a woman in the patriarchal society in a very graphic and violent way, in a way that is supposed to make the reader feel uncomfortable. To break the boundaries of what's convenient when it comes to feminist writing through the mental breakdown the two woman characters slowly go through, breaking the patterns in their heads one by one, rebelling against the society that tells them they have to be calm, responsible, subdued, rebelling against life itself. A book that should be read and reread.

an act in three parts — the body horror and way yeong-hye descends into madness (conversely, runs away from her shackles) is eerie n yet. freeing.
(i must admit i did have to read reddit posts to Fully get it but now i do.)

The Vegetarian was such an eerie and mind boggling read that left me confused, disgusted, shocked and numb.
Han Kang’s writing is magnetic and her ability to create such a setting that illuminates of the pages is what I loved most about the book.
An insightful and interesting read.

I expect a lot more out of a Booker prize winner. The writing was flat. I never felt I was engaged and I never had very much emotional investment in any of the characters.
The ending confused me.

After some time reflecting, I’ve come to understand why this book is amazing in its own way. Perhaps the scattered little puzzles are intentionally left unresolved, inviting us to accept them as they are, no matter how much we want to piece together the whole picture. It captivates in an indescribable way, which might be the very charm that makes it so beloved by many. However, if I’m being completely honest, I was somewhat disappointed because it didn’t meet my expectations. The writing feels superficial, and I found little worth highlighting.

this book felt like stepping into a quiet nightmare. yeong-hye’s transformation and the chaos it unleashes were both unsettling. the way han kang explores desire, autonomy, and repression through stark, poetic prose left me reeling. It’s heavy but incredibly thought-provoking—it made me question how society deals with nonconformity and the weight of expectations we place on each other. disturbing, yet impossible to look away from.

so so good ; my personal take on the book is that it showcases the journey of a woman going through the rebellion of societal standards shown in the form of going vegetarian ; despite doing no harm to others her decision to become vegetarian still stirs a commotion because of others need to “correct” unconventional behaviours and mindset. Lots of what the fuck moments in this book but i would so read it again

What the hell was the ending

Took me out of my reading slump!

i find it challenging to begin describing this novel. i suspect that even a year from now, it will still stand out as one of the most haunting, unsettling, and tragic reads i’ve encountered in a long time. although it’s a short book, there’s a wealth of material to contemplate and discuss. the narrative offers various interpretations that go beyond the surface. don’t let the title mislead you; this isn’t merely a story about a woman who gives up meat and animal products. it delves into themes of bodily autonomy and the consequences of its absence. the book scrutinizes the damaging effects of patriarchal societies, violence, and victimization, as well as the complexities of mental illness. there’s so much more to explore
the vegetarian defies conventional storytelling and avoids the typical narrative structure that i often see in fiction. it doesn’t adhere to the familiar pattern of “rising action, climax, and resolution” that i’ve come to expect, even when i can predict the outcome. while there may have been some translation nuances, they didn’t detract from my reading experience. any challenges in translation felt minor to me. i’d suggest this book to anyone interested in exploring unconventional narratives and to those curious about this style of writing. honestly, it left me somewhat at a loss for words, so please forgive the brevity of my thoughts. consider that a genuine compliment

I don't have worlds to describe what I'm feeling right now. I bought this book by accident, but it really made me question a lot of things. Who was on the wrong? Is life always have to get so hard? Etc. But I highly recommend it.

"Time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness as it whisked her life downstream, a life she had to constantly strain to keep from breaking apart." 3.5 My first venture into Korean literature! The book deals with dark and heavy themes; focusing on women's oppression in Korean society. The narrative was fluid and the imagery was great too. I feel like there's much to unpack with regards to the book's use of symbolism—but I'll leave it to Google to help me find answers. Dark and depressing stories aren't really my cup of tea, so that might explain my rating. But overall, reading this was an eye-opening and weird?? experience!

maybe what makes this book so scary and uncomfortable is that it feels very.. possible? the mind deteriorating. the societal burdens getting the best of your sanity. the bizarre gory dreams.
this brought me to the edge of a self-reflection i usually refuse to engage in. not the kind that has you observe society and culture with a keen, new eye, but the one that coaxes you too close to some well hidden demons.
Highlights

She was no longer able to cope with all that her sister reminded her of. She'd been unable to forgive herself for soaring alone over a boundary she herself could never bring herself to cross, unable to forgive that magnificent irresponsibility that had enabled Yeong-hye to shuck off social constraints and leave her behind, still a prisoner.

The summer woods are dense and luxuriant beyond the windscreen of the ambulance. In the waning afternoon light, the rain on the leaves glitters intensely, kindling a green fire.

“I have dreams too, you know. Dreams… and I could let myself dissolve into them, let them take me over… but surely the dream isn’t all there is? We have to wake up at some point, don’t we?”

this was the body of a beautiful young woman, conventionally an object of desire, and yet it was a body from which all desire had been eliminated. but this was nothing so crass as carnal desire, not for her—rather, or so it seemed, what she had renounced was the very life that her body represented.

or perhaps it was simply that things were happening inside her, terrible things, which no one else could even guess at, and thus it was impossible for her to engage with everyday life at the same time. if so, she would naturally have no energy left, not just for curiosity or interest but indeed for any meaningful response to all the humdrum minutiae that went on on the surface

she'd been unable to forgive her for soaring alone over a boundary she herself could never bring herself to cross, unable to forgive that magnificent irresponsibility that had enabled yeong-hye to shuck off social constraints and leave her behind, still a prisoner. and before yeong-hye had broken those bars, she'd never even known they were there

time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

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 successes 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.

This was the body of a beautiful young woman, conventionally an object of desire, and yet it was a body from which all desire had been eliminated. But this was nothing so crass as carnal desire, not for her—rather, or so it seemed, what she had renounced was the very lite that her body represented.

Now, with the benefit of hindsight, In-hye could see that the role that she had adopted back then of the hard- working, self-sacrificing eldest daughter had been a sign not of maturity but of cowardice. It had been a survival tactic.
We do what is needed

In-hue couldn’t hold herself back any long. “You!” she yelled. "I’m acting like this because I'm afraid youre going to die!"
Yeong-hye turned her head and stared blankly at In-hye, as though the latter were not her sister but a complete stranger. After a while, the question came.
"Why, is it such a bad thing to die?"
oh to be a tree bathing in the sunlight, no?