4. The Vegetarian

Ugh. This book, guys. This one is... interesting.

Let me preface everything by saying this is a very well-written book. I mean, it won the Man Booker Prize, it made virtually every "best book of the year" list. I will not deny this is a good book. But, did I like it? 

Facebook status: it's complicated.

The story is, essentially, about two sisters as one of them begins a slow spiral downward. She has a dream that compels her to throw away all the meat in her house and declare herself a vegetarian. That doesn't sit well with anyone, particularly with her husband and her controlling father. Broken into three acts, the book switches perspective and narrators, but essentially, tells her story until the end.

A co-worker lent me this book, but warned me that she didn't "get it." She's really smart, extremely well-read. But, I was confident I would find the deeper meaning that she must have missed. I'm such a literary genius, you see ;) 

From the first page, I was enthralled. The writing is clean and the pages move quickly. Switching narrators at the 60-page mark was jarring enough to keep me reengaged. The problem for me is the story builds - slowly - to an end that is not only predictable, but disappointing. Most books, you get to the end and feel either satisfied or disappointed. I closed this book with a resounding "meh." And, kind of a "huh." Mostly a sigh of bewilderment that left me racing to read other reviews, hoping to be enlightened about what I missed. Didn't happen. Every review I read showed me that I didn't miss anything, I just didn't see it as a message that moved me. It happens.

That message (I think?) is about whether not death is a noble choice. More specifically, whether or not intentional self-destruction is the ultimate way to take control of one's life. But, for me, the author presents that message in a way that is both too obvious and too subtle all at one.

See? Complicated.

For what it's worth, I used to be a vegetarian. For nine years of my life, the only meat I ate was the one celebratory bratwurst I ate during baseball season every summer (what can I say, I was born in Milwaukee.) Nothing about that was complicated or profound. But, I don't think it's a coincidence that my now-husband proposed to me very shortly after I started eating meat again. 

A big part of the book that I did not miss was the overt cruelty of the male characters. Holy cow, these are terrible people. The womens' father is a controlling, physically abusive tyrant. Equally as evil, in my opinion, are their passively abusing husbands. Check out this gem from page 72: "She's a good woman, he thought. The kind of woman whose goodness is oppressive." Great, dude. Later in the book, a different man (the other sister's husband) describes how he sees his wife's "patience and desire to do the right thing stifling." What a lovely couple of gentlemen.

So, the takeaway. There has to be a takeaway, right? It is well-written. It is well-executed. The imagery is strong, the characters are well-developed. Should you read it? 

Meh.