It is hard to put all my thoughts on this book into words.

It was compelling and I read it quickly. It was very Korean in style and mood, which is often a sort of mundane-depression feel with a sort of dissociative outside observer vibe. The descriptions, places, and people took me straight back to Korea.
In short, the subject of the novel, Yeong-hye, becomes a vegetarian after experiencing violent, bloody nightmares that won’t go away. Other characters’ reactions to her vegetarianism are certainly authentic. I won’t try to explain it all here, but food and families and nourishment are such sensitive topics in Korea. I absolutely believe the negative and even abusive reactions of family members. But this story is not about a woman who becomes a vegetarian and is rejected by her family. It is about a woman who is mentally ill who is rejected by and abused by her family, as well as about the sister and only person who tries to protect her (even against her own husband).
This is an incredibly sensitive and complex look at the way mental health is viewed in South Korea. People live with so much pressure and stress, and not much to look forward to. This covers how people who are ill are misunderstood, stigmatized and mistreated, but also sheds an intellectual light on the choice to starve or whether that even is a choice if you suffer from a psychosis. The subject, Yeong-hye, fortunately has a sister, In-hye, who cares for her when she is in hospital. But even In-hye, at times, feels jealously, recognizing that she too (like all of us) falls somewhere on the mentally well/unwell spectrum and some people may have more of a luxury to flip out than others who would also like to give in to their demons but can’t or won’t.
“Though the ostensible reason for her not having wanted Yeong-hye to be discharged, the reason that she gave the doctor, was this worry about a possible relapse, now she was able to admit to herself what had really been going on. She was no longer able to cope with all that her sister reminded her of. 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 Yeon-hye had broken those bars, she’d never even known they were there.” (143)
I recommend this book especially for people who have lived in South Korea or for people who want to try to understand Korea. But a mild warning, as a teacher, this is not student appropriate. There are explicit vivid sex scenes involving abuse that will be hard for students to understand as Yeong-hye is a willing participant. Keeping that in mind, I really enjoyed this book and it has kept me thinking for weeks.