The Vegetarian by Han Kang: A Disturbing Journey Through Violence, Sexuality, and Obsession

The Vegetarian by South Korean author Han Kang is a novel composed of three interconnected stories. Winner of the 2016 International Man Booker Prize, the book explores the boundaries of sexuality, violence, and obsession. Some readers may find it disturbing, eerie, or even containing elements of horror, as Han delves into the darkest corners of human nature.

The Vegetarian by Han Kang - A Unique Structure: Three Interconnected Stories

Han Kang explains that she wrote The Vegetarian as three different stories at different times, though they are all closely connected. The novel revolves around the main character, Yeong-hye, whose life starts to unravel after she experiences vivid, disturbing dreams. One morning, she wakes up and throws away all the meat in her home, declaring that she will only eat vegetarian food from now on. This sudden change leads to conflicts, especially with her husband, Cheong, who is frustrated because this decision affects not just Yeong-hye, but him as well.

Yeong-hye's decision to become a vegetarian is not a personal choice but is driven by her nightmares. She believes that by cutting out meat, she will rid herself of these horrifying dreams, filled with blood and violence. However, the nightmares not only alter her eating habits but also disturb her sleep, health, and marriage.

First Story: Through Cheong's Eyes

The first story is told from the perspective of her husband, Cheong, who describes his wife’s sudden transformation:

“What’s the problem, exactly?”

“I’m tired.”

“Well then, that means you need to eat some meat. That’s why you don’t have any energy anymore, right? You didn’t used to be like this, after all.”

“Actually…”

“What?”

“…it’s the smell.”

“The smell?”

“The meat smell. Your body smells of meat.”

This was just too ridiculous for words.

“Didn’t you see me just take a shower? So where’s this smell coming from, huh?”

“From the same place your sweat comes from,” she answered, completely in earnest.”

Cheong married Yeong-hye not because she was particularly beautiful or had any remarkable qualities but because she was ordinary. He often refers to her as "the most ordinary woman in the world." This ordinariness is what attracted him to her in the first place.

As Yeong-hye's sudden change disrupts their marriage, Cheong turns to her family for help. Her father, mother, sister, and brother-in-law become involved in an attempt to force her to abandon her vegetarianism. The family’s dynamic is revealed during a meal at Yeong-hye’s sister’s new house, where tensions escalate.

Yeong-hye’s father, a strict and abusive figure, has left lasting scars on her, as seen in a disturbing childhood memory of how he treated a dog that bit her. In a violent scene, the family tries to force Yeong-hye to eat meat, escalating from persuasion to threats and even physical violence.

Yet, despite the chaos, no one in the family truly tries to understand what is driving Yeong-hye’s actions. No one listens to her or takes her talk of nightmares seriously.

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A Downward Spiral of Mental and Physical Health

As Yeong-hye's mental health deteriorates, her relationship with her body also begins to falter. She eats less, sleeps poorly, and becomes increasingly withdrawn from those around her. The novel powerfully conveys her suffering, both physical and emotional, as she says, 

“The thing that hurts is my chest. Something is stuck in my solar plexus. I don’t know what it might be. It’s lodged there permanently these days. Even though I’ve stopped wearing a bra, I can feel this lump all the time. No matter how deeply I inhale, it doesn’t go away.

Yells and howls, threaded together layer upon layer, are enmeshed to form that lump. Because of meat. I ate too much meat. The lives of the animals I ate have all lodged there. Blood and flesh, all those butchered bodies are scattered in every nook and cranny, and though the physical remnants were excreted, their lives still stick stubbornly to my insides.”  

This statement captures the deep, inescapable pain that haunts her throughout the story.

The Second and Third Stories: Obsession and Mental Decline

As the novel progresses, the focus shifts to Yeong-hye's sister, In-hye, and her artist husband. Yeong-hye’s mental and physical health deteriorates further, and she becomes more reclusive, eating less and avoiding human contact. The artist brother-in-law becomes fixated on a birthmark on Yeong-hye’s body, developing a disturbing obsession with her. His obsession culminates in an intense relationship with Yeong-hye, which he justifies as an expression of his "artistic evolution."

By the end of the novel, the family is shattered by Yeong-hye’s descent into madness and her brother-in-law’s actions. In-hye, unlike the rest of her family, does not abandon her sister. She reflects on their traumatic childhood and the abuse Yeong-hye suffered at their father’s hands.

“Only after all this time was she able to understand why Yeong-hye had said what she did. Yeonghye had been the only victim of their father’s beatings. Such violence wouldn’t have bothered their brother Yeong-ho so much, a boy who went around doling out his own rough justice to the village children. As the eldest daughter, In-hye had been the one who took over from their exhausted mother and made a broth for her father to wash the liquor down, and so he’d always taken a certain care in his dealings with her. Only Yeong-hye, docile and naive, had been unable to deflect their father’s temper or put up any form of resistance. Instead, she had merely absorbed all her suffering inside her, deep into the marrow of her bones. 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.” 

As In-hye tries to help her sister, she is overwhelmed by her own doubts and struggles, questioning her life, her family, and her ability to cope.

“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.”

“Her life was no more than a ghostly pageant of exhausted endurance, no more real than a television drama. Death, who now stood by her side, was as familiar to her as a family member, missing for a long time but now returned.”

The Vegetarian by Han Kang and similarities to Kafka’s Metamorphosis

While reading The Vegetarian, I was constantly reminded of Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis. The parallels between Kafka’s character Gregor Samsa and Han Kang’s Yeong-hye are striking. Both characters undergo a transformation that alienates them from their families.

“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into an enormous insect.” Kafka’s famous opening line introduces Samsa’s transformation into a bug.

In The Vegetarian, Yeong-hye's transformation begins with her disturbing dreams, which lead her to become a vegetarian—a different type of metamorphosis. Like Samsa, Yeong-hye’s change alienates her from her family. Samsa’s physical transformation turns him into a literal bug, while Yeong-hye’s transformation is more psychological and emotional, yet her body too begins to waste away as she stops eating.

Both characters are also alienated from their families. Samsa’s family locks him away in his room, where he is treated as a burden. Similarly, Yeong-hye’s family sees her as a problem to be fixed. Her husband feels embarrassed by her, and her family tries to force her back into normalcy, rather than understanding the cause of her distress.

Another similarity is the presence of a compassionate sibling. In Metamorphosis, Samsa’s sister is the only one who shows him any kindness. In The Vegetarian, it is In-hye who tries to help Yeong-hye, despite everything.

There are likely more parallels between Kafka’s work and Han Kang’s novel, which an attentive reader may uncover.

• Han Kang
• Original title: 채식주의자
• Changbi Publishers (S. Korea)
• First published 2007
• Pages: 160 pp 

Conclusion 

The Vegetarian is a haunting exploration of human behavior, touching on themes of autonomy, mental health, and the destructive power of obsession. Han Kang’s writing is powerful and unsettling, drawing readers into a surreal and sometimes disturbing world. Like Kafka’s Metamorphosis, The Vegetarian presents a transformation that is both physical and existential, making it a compelling yet discomforting read.