By no stretch of the imagination do I purport
to have any knowledge of South Korean history or understanding of their current
cultural situation.
Therefore a potted history taken from the preface of "Maninbo: Peace & War" by Ko Un may help to put some of the cultural themes to the fore:
Therefore a potted history taken from the preface of "Maninbo: Peace & War" by Ko Un may help to put some of the cultural themes to the fore:
In early 1960 the citizens began to protest, provoked by blatantly
falsified election results. On 19 April 1960 thousands of university students
and high school students marched on the Blue House, the presidential mansion,
demanding new elections and calling for Syngman Rhee's (a US installed leader
in the 1940's) resignation, the numbers growing to over 100,000. Police opened
fire on the protesters, killing approximately 180 and wounding thousands. On 26
April, President Rhee stepped down from power and went into voluntary exile.
This series of events is known as the April revolution.
South Korea adopted a parliamentary system which considerably
weakened the power of the president and so, while Yun Bo-seon was elected
president on 13 August 1960, real power was vested in the prime minister.
Following months of political instability, on 19 May 1961 Lt General Park
Chung-hee launched a cou d'état overthrowing the short lived second Republic of
South Korea and replacing it with a military junta and later the autocratic
third Republic of South Korea. Almost at once, he authorised the establishment
1961 of the Korean Central intelligence agency. This was the notorious office
responsible for the repression of political and social descent throughout his
time in power, and beyond. After Yun resigned in 1962, Lt General Park
consolidated his power by becoming acting president. In 1963, he was elected
president in his own right. In 1971, Park won another close election against
his rival, Kim Dae-jung. Shortly after being sworn in, he declared a state of
emergency, and in October 1972, Park dissolved the legislature and suspended
the 1963 constitution. The so-called Yushin ('revitalising') Constitution
was approved in heavily rigged plebiscite in November 1972.
Meanwhile, South Korea had begun the process of industrialisation
and urbanisation that were to catapult it to its current position in the world.
This was done at the expense of many basic human rights, with low wages,
absence of trade unions, arbitrary arrests and random killings. Finally, as
more and more people taking to the streets to do demand a return to democracy
and a liberalisation of society, Park seemed to be preparing a violent crackdown
when he was assassinated by Kim Jae-gyu, The head of the Korean Central
intelligence agency, on 26 October 1979.
For a while, it seemed that the dreamed-of restoration of democracy
might happen, but on 18 May 1980, General Chun Doo-hwan staged a coup while
provoking an uprising in the south-western city of Gwangju which left hundreds
dead. All the leading dissidents were thrown into prison and a new dictatorship
began.
After continuing resistance and sacrifice on the part of many
dissidents, climaxing in huge demonstrations in June 1987 which forced the
dictatorial regime to accept the Democratic Constitution, Korea was finally
able to elect a civilian president in 1992.
It is against this backdrop of dissent,
rebellion and corruption that the themes of "The Vegetarian"
become clearer.
Broken into
three parts “The Vegetarian” opens with the first person narration by Yeong-hye’s
husband, a plain man with no ambitions;
I’ve always inclined towards the middle course in life. At school
I chose to boss around those who were two or three years my junior, and with
whom I could act the ringleader, rather than take my chances with those my own
age, and later I chose which college to apply to based on my chances of
obtaining a scholarship large enough for my needs. Ultimately, I settled for a
job where I could be provided with a decent monthly salary in return for
diligently carrying out my allotted tasks, at a company whose small size meant
they would value my unremarkable skills. And so it was only natural that I
would marry the most run-of-the-mill woman in the world. As for women who were
pretty, intelligent, strikingly sensual, the daughters of rich families – they would
only ever have served to disrupt my carefully ordered existence.
He is
married to a plain unremarkable woman, our protagonist, Yeong-hye;
However, if there wasn’t any special attraction, nor did any
particular drawbacks present themselves, and therefore there was no reason for
the two of us not to get married. The passive personality of this woman in whom
I could detect neither freshness nor charm, or anything especially refined,
suited me down to the ground. There was no need to affect intellectual leanings
in order to win her over, or to worry that she might be comparing me to the
preening men who pose in fashion catalogues, and she didn’t get worked up if I
happened to be late for one of our meetings. The paunch that started to appear
in my mid-twenties, my skinny legs and forearms that steadfastly refused to
bulk up in spite of my best efforts, the inferiority complex I used to have
about the size of my penis – I could rest assured that I wouldn’t have to fret
about such things on her account.
The basic
plot of Han Kang’s novel is Yeong-hye’s decision to become vegetarian (vegan in
fact as she also avoids, dairy, eggs, wearing leather etc.) and the subsequent
consequences. The first section is narrated by Yeong-hye’s husband, the middle
section a third person story of Yeong-hye’s brother-in-law’s relationship with
her after her vegetarianism and the final section another third person account
from the view of Heong-hye’s sister and husband of the artist featured in
section two.
Let’s forget
the linear plot as the sub-plot is the more interesting account here. This is a
novel that explores institutionalisation, in many different forms, what it
means to push against the norm, to what extent to we really have “freedom of
choice”? The simple act of declaring her vegetarianism leads Yeong-hye to
undergo ostracising by numerous peoples, not just her husband and her family,
but governmental bodies, health professionals and more.
This is a
novel that raises all the social norms, the familial norms, governmental norms,
general rules of society, for example when is it okay to go semi-naked, when is
it okay to choose what you eat, when is it okay to have a different appearance?
As the novel
progresses the “kicking against the pricks” crosses into art, nature, sexual
mores and begins to question our beliefs of what constitutes beauty, is it in
the eye of the beholder? Is it something we have been programmed or influenced
to believe?
The whole situation was undeniably bizarre, yet she displayed an
almost total lack of curiosity, and indeed it seemed that this was what enabled
her to maintain her composure no matter what she was faced with. She made no
move to investigate the unfamiliar space, and showed none of the emotions that
one might expect. It seemed enough for her to just deal with whatever it was
that came her way, calmly and without fuss. 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. What suggested to him that this might be
the case was that, on occasion, her eyes would seem to reflect a kind of
violence that could not simply be dismissed as passivity or idiocy or
indifference, and which she would appear to be struggling to suppress. Just then
she was staring down at her feet, her hand wrapped around the mug, shoulders
hunched like a baby chick trying to get warm. And yet she didn’t look at all
pitiful sitting there; instead, it made her appear uncommonly hard and
self-contained, so much so that anyone watching would feel uneasy, and want to
look away.
A novel that
questions social norms and raises questions such as, when someone is different
why do we see vulnerability? The inner sleeve tells us that Yeong-hye spirals
further and further into her fantasies of abandoning her fleshy prison and
becoming – impossibly, ecstatically – a tree.”
Why did you use to bare your breasts to the sunlight, like some
kind of mutant animal that had evolved to be able to photosynthesize?
A
wonderfully rich, multi layered work, that questions a raft of social issues on
many levels. Written in a sparse, almost detached style, the translation is
obviously reflective of a deeper South Korean cultural awareness and allows the
reader to subtly become haunted by Yeong-hye’s journey from a meat eater to a natural
being.
Surely a
work that will feature on the upcoming Man Booker International Prize and Best
Translated Book Award longlists, and one I expect to go far in both of these
awards. A work of rebellion but without the ra-ra of some books, a haunting
journey of what it means to resist.
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