Han Kang - The Vegetarian

“Have you spoken to your sister?”

“From what I could see, it didn’t look like she was conscious.”

“It might seem that way on the surface, but every single one of her muscles is tensed. It isn’t that she’s not conscious, exactly — rather, it’s as if her conscious mind is so completely concentrated on something, or somewhere, that she isn’t aware of her immediate surroundings. When she’s in that state and we force her out of it, if you saw what happens then you’d know for sure that she’d been awake the whole time.” The doctor seems sincere, and a little tense. “It can be a difficult thing for a family member to witness. If we decide that your presence is complicating things, it’s best if you get out of the way quickly.”

“I understand,” In-hye says. “It’s just—”

The doctor cuts her off. “I’m sure everything will work out fine.”

—

With Yeong-hye’s twisting, struggling body slung over his shoulder fireman style, the carer walks down the corridor and into an empty two-person ward. In-hye waits for the other medical staff to file in, then follows cautiously. The doctor was right — Yeong-hye is definitely conscious. In fact, her thrashing is so wild and rough it’s difficult to believe that she’s the same woman as the one who was lying completely immobile only a short while ago. A barely comprehensible yell erupts from her throat.

“Leave me alone! Leave me alo-o-one!” Two carers and a nurse’s aide grapple with her struggling form, forcing her down onto the bed. They bind her arms and legs.

“Please step outside,” the male nurse says to In-hye as she stands there hesitating. “It’s difficult for family members to watch. Please go outside.”

Yeong-hye instantly turns to In-hye, fixing her with her shining eyes. Her yelling intensifies, and a continuous torrent of words streams out. Her bound limbs writhe, compelled by some unknown impulse, as if she were trying to throw herself at In-hye. In-hye steps forward, closer to her sister, without realizing what she is doing. Yeong-hye’s skinny arms flail about, wasted away to nothing but bone.

“I…don’t…like it!” For the first time, Yeong-hye enunciates clearly, though her voice still sounds like the roar of some savage beast. “I…don’t…like it! I…don’t…like…eating!” In-hye clasps Yeong-hye’s contorted cheeks in both hands.

“Yeong-hye. Yeong-hye!” The look in Yeong-hye’s eyes as she shudders with terror claws at In-hye.

“Please go outside. You’re only making things more difficult.” The carers grab In-hye by the armpits and lift her up. With no time to resist, she is pushed through the open door and out into the corridor. The nurse who had been standing outside takes her by the arm.

“Please stay here. She’ll be calmer without you in there.”

Yeong-hye’s doctor pulls on a pair of surgical gloves and spreads an even layer of jelly over the long, slender tube that the head nurse hands to him. In the meantime, one of the carers is having to use all his strength to try to hold Yeong-hye’s head still. As soon as they approach her with the tube Yeong-hye’s face flushes crimson and she manages to shake herself free of the carer’s grip. It is just as the nurse had said; impossible to know where such strength is coming from. In-hye takes a step forward, faintly dazed, but the nurse grabs her arm and holds her back. Eventually, the carer wrestles Yeong-hye’s sunken cheeks back into his strong grasp, and the doctor inserts the tube into her nose.

“Damn it, it’s blocked!” the doctor exclaims. Yeong-hye has opened her mouth as wide as it will go, thereby managing to close up her gullet around the uvula so that the tube is pushed out. The internist, who had been waiting to send the thin gruel flowing into the tube through the syringe, furrows his brow. Yeong-hye’s doctor removes the tube from her nose.

“Right, let’s try one more time. Quicker this time.”

Again jelly is rubbed onto the tube. Again the carer pits his robust physique against Yeong-hye’s wasted strength, clamping his hands around her head. Again the tube is inserted into Yeong-hye’s nose.

“It’s in. That’s it, now.” A quick sigh escapes from the doctor’s mouth. The internist’s idle hands are busy all of a sudden. He starts to send the gruel through the syringe. The nurse who has been holding In-hye’s arm gives her a squeeze and whispers, “It’s worked. It’s a success. Now she’ll be put to sleep. Otherwise she might vomit, you see.”

As soon as the head nurse gets out the tranquilizer injection, the nurse’s aide gives a sharp scream. In-hye shakes off the other nurse’s hand and dashes back into the room.

“Out of the way, all of you! Get away from her!” In-hye grabs Yeong-hye’s doctor by the shoulder as he bends over the bed and yanks him back. She stands and looks down at Yeong-hye. The nurse’s aide, who had been holding the tube, has blood spatters on her face. The blood is gushing out of the tube, out of Yeong-hye’s mouth. The internist takes a step back, still holding the syringe.

“Take it out. Take the tube out, quickly!” In-hye is unaware of the shrill scream coming from her own mouth as she feels the carer try to grapple her away. Meanwhile, Yeong-hye’s doctor is finding it difficult to extract the long tube as his patient throws her head about.

“Calm down, calm down! Calm!” the doctor yells at Yeong-hye. “Tranquilizer!” The head nurse tries to hand him the syringe.

“Don’t!” In-hye screams, her voice drawn out like a wail. “Stop it! Don’t! Please don’t!” She bites the arm of the carer holding her and throws herself forward again.

“What the hell, you bitch!” the carer groans. In-hye takes Yeong-hye in her arms, soaking her blouse with the blood her sister has vomited up.

“Stop it, for god’s sake. Please stop…” In-hye grabs the wrist of the head nurse, the one who is holding the syringe with the tranquilizer, as Yeong-hye quietly convulses against her chest.

—

Yeong-hye’s blood is splashed all over the doctor’s white gown, even on his rolled-up sleeves. In-hye stares blankly at the splatter pattern. A whirling galaxy of bloody stars.

“We need to transfer Yeong-hye to the main hospital right away. Please, go to Seoul. They’ll have to give her a protein injection into one of her carotid arteries to stop the gastric bleeding. The effect won’t last long, but it’s the only way if you want to keep her alive.”

In-hye takes the letter requesting Yeong-hye’s admittance to the main hospital, which has just been drawn up, puts it in her bag and leaves the nurses’ room. She heads for the bathroom and manages to make it into one of the cubicles before her legs crumple beneath her and she falls to her knees in front of the toilet. Quietly, she begins to vomit. Milky tea mixed with yellow stomach acid.

“Idiot.” Her trembling lips repeat the word as she washes her face in front of the mirror. “Idiot.”

It’s your body, you can treat it however you please. The only area where you’re free to do just as you like. And even that doesn’t turn out how you wanted.

When she lifts her head, the face she sees reflected in the mirror is wet. Eyes from which so much blood has spilled in her dreams. Eyes from which that blood always refused to be wiped away, no matter how fiercely she scrubbed at it with her hands. But the woman’s face is not crying, not now. It’s only staring wordlessly back at her, like always, betraying not even the faintest hint of emotion. The wailing cry that tore at her ears a little while ago was so raw, so full of anguish, she finds it difficult to believe it came from her.

She reels along the corridor, staggering like a drunk. Desperately trying to keep her balance, she makes her way toward the lobby. All of a sudden the sunlight is pouring through the window, brightening the gloomy space. It’s been a long time since In-hye has seen such light. Some of the patients are sensitive to the light and grow agitated. While the rest of them flock over to the window, gabbling excitably, a woman wearing ordinary clothes walks over to In-hye. In-hye narrows her eyes, her vision swimming, struggling to make out the woman’s face. It’s Hee-joo. The whites of her eyes are red; perhaps she’s been crying again. Has she always felt things so deeply? Or is it just because she’s a patient here, one who’s emotionally unstable?