Writers Who Inspire Us Series: The Searing Prose of Han Kang
“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 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.” ― Han Kang, The Vegetarian
I stumbled across Han Kang’s writing by pure chance. I came across The Vegetarian while browsing an airport book store, and something about it felt important. I couldn’t board my flight without purchasing it (despite my partner’s protests that I already had plenty of books to see me through our trip).
That chance purchase led me to one of, I believe, the most influential writers of the past decade. Kang’s prose is shot through with a vividness unlike most other writing I’ve read and the stories she chooses to apply it to are incredibly important.
A Little About the Author
The following bio is taken from Han Kang’s site:
‘Han Kang was born in Gwangju in 1970. Since the age of ten, She grew up in Suyuri, Seoul, after her family moved there. She studied Korean literature at Yonsei University. She made her literary debut as a poet by publishing five poems, including “Winter in Seoul”, in the winter issue of Munhak-gwa-sahoe (Literature and Society) in 1993. She began her career as a novelist the next year by winning the 1994 Seoul Shinmun Spring Literary Contest with “Red Anchor”. She published her first short story collection entitled Yeosu (Munji Publishing Company) in 1995. She participated in the University of Iowa International Writing Program for three months in 1998 with support from the Arts Council Korea.’
Despite such success in her home country, it wasn’t until 2016 that Kang’s work began to garner interest from a Western audience. The Vegetarian was her second book to be translated into English and went on to receive international acclaim, including winning the Man Booker International Prize and PEN Translation Prize.
Why I Love Her Work
Kang was one of the very first authors to help me diversify my reading, and in so doing my thinking.
Even though The Vegetarian has received backlash for its translation (many Koreans have claimed that the original translation is riddled with mistranslation, distorting Kang’s signature sparse prose), it was an intensely eye-opening read for me. At the time of reading it, I did wonder in my original review what the translation may have missed in transforming such a rich and culturally-connected story into English. Still, it didn’t detract from my reading experience.
From The Vegetarian, I quickly picked up Human Acts and was left stunned once more. A controversial book for the light it sheds on a piece of Korean history that has largely been glossed over, Human Acts is one of the few books that has moved me to tears in recent years. Again, there have been questions around the translation, but it is Kang’s and her people’s story being told, and one that must be heard.
I enjoy most forms of literature, but the ones that bury deep in my brain and bloom change are the ones that highlight how naive or restrained in my thinking I have been. Any book that calls me to question and acknowledge what I think I know about the world is an important one and Kang’s work has consistently done that.
Reading her books has made me a more empathetic, attentive and curious individual.
Image from pinterest
Recommended Reading
To date, there are three of Kang’s book that have been translated into English and available in most countries.
The Vegetarian
Before the nightmare, Yeong-hye and her husband lived an ordinary life. But when splintering, blood-soaked images start haunting her thoughts, Yeong-hye decides to purge her mind and renounce eating meat. In a country where societal mores are strictly obeyed, Yeong-hye's decision to embrace a more “plant-like” existence is a shocking act of subversion. And as her passive rebellion manifests in ever more extreme and frightening forms, scandal, abuse, and estrangement begin to send Yeong-hye spiralling deep into the spaces of her fantasy.
In a metamorphosis of mind and body, her dangerous endeavour will take Yeong-hye—impossibly, ecstatically, tragically—far from her once-known self altogether.
A visceral and engrossing story of ones woman’s decision to subvert the ways she is ‘supposed’ to exist in the world. The Vegetarian is not for the faint of heart nor the squeamish but is a revelationary reading experience.
Human Acts
Amid a violent student uprising in South Korea, a young boy named Dong-ho is shockingly killed.
The story of this tragic episode unfolds in a sequence of interconnected chapters as the victims and the bereaved encounter suppression, denial, and the echoing agony of the massacre. From Dong-ho's best friend who meets his fateful end; to an editor struggling against censorship; to a prisoner and a factory worker, each suffering from traumatic memories; and to Dong-ho's grief-stricken mother; and through their collective heartbreak and acts of hope is the tale of a brutalised people in search of a voice.
One of the most sincerely heart-breaking and emotively essential books I have ever read, Human Acts is a book I think should be on everyone’s shelves.
The White Book
A lyrical and disquieting exploration of personal grief, written through the prism of the colour white. While on a writer's residency, a nameless narrator wanders the twin white worlds of the blank page and snowy Warsaw. The White Book becomes a meditation on the colour white, as well as a fictional journey inspired by an older sister who died in her mother's arms, a few hours old. The narrator grapples with the tragedy that has haunted her family, an event she colours in stark white--breast milk, swaddling bands, the baby's rice cake-coloured skin--and, from here, visits all that glows in her memory: from a white dog to sugar cubes.
As the writer reckons with the enormity of her sister's death, Han Kang's trademark frank and chilling prose is softened by retrospection, introspection, and a deep sense of resilience and love.
I read a review that described this book as ‘more than literature, it is an art form to be experienced all of its own’ which sounded a bit weird but having read this book three times I find I struggle to disagree with the sentiment. Intense, sparse and emotionally charged prose once again dominant as Kang deftly explores some of the core themes of life, not least loss, love, longing, grief and identity. You can read my review of this book here.
About Elaine Mead
Elaine is a freelance writer and editor from London, currently residing in Tasmania. She is passionately interested in the ways in which we can learn from our experiences to become more authentic versions of ourselves, and believes in the power of words to connect. She's also obsessed with showing you photos of her Dachshund puppy. You can find her on Instagram @cestelaine
