Subjectivity: A review of The Vegetarian by Han Kang

The Vegetarian - cover of original Korean editionI wrote this review in 2016, intending to publish it in a different venue, then forgot about it. I’ve added references to two films that came out after I wrote it.

As I discuss, it’s debatable whether The Vegetarian really qualifies as a feminist novel. It’s about people who have retreated so entirely into their wishful fantasy lives that they are incapable of accurately perceiving the world around them – or themselves. In our third year of COVID, this is more apropos than ever. Continue reading

Fear It Self

In a previous post (Isms), I mentioned in passing that I’ve evolved my own beliefs about the meaning/purpose of life in the meta sense, but did not elaborate upon what they were.

Om I/God

Here’s what I think is going on, to the best of my scrawny human brain’s capacity to understand such things. Continue reading

The Unconvinceables

COVID Year Two was more of a challenge than COVID Year One.

It wasn’t that I expected the pandemic to end, as many apparently did. I did not, having some awareness of real world logistics, the speed of science, and the tendency of those who have made bad decisions to double down rather than repent.

And I’m not chafing at restrictions upon my usual activities. My life hasn’t changed much, except for wondering whether I am carrying home a fatal illness with my groceries.

No, the biggest, buzziest COVIDfly in the ointment of my life is Continue reading

Isms

Just a quick post (am I really capable of such a thing? We shall see) to update followers on the issues I was wrastling with in February. I quit the Yale “Science of Well-Being” course after a few weeks, as it was targeted primarily towards those who had bought into competitive materialism all of their lives, which has never been me. Also it was a little too mechanistic in its attitude toward brain science. Research is good, but not everything can be measured. Identity, for example. But hey, go Elis. Really, go. You will probably be much happier away from Yale and its ilk.

Building on the theory that procrastination was a manifestation of crippling yet unconscious anxiety Continue reading

Believe Me

Cassandra was a Trojan princess and priestess, best remembered for being a prophet who was always right, but never believed. The rest of her story is less well-remembered. More on that later.

To Tell the Truth

Bronze casting of a pensive young woman in ancient dress with holes for eyesCassandra only wanted to use her gift to prevent unnecessary suffering and death. But she told people things they didn’t want to hear, so she was pronounced insane, and ignored. Her own family, who had surely noticed her prophecies always came true, nevertheless locked her away, and dissed her along with the rest. They soon had reason to regret that, but by then it was too late.

When they let her out for a feast, she warned her father, the King of Troy, that the centerpiece, a giant wooden horse sent as a gift by Troy’s longtime rivals, the Greeks, was full of invading soldiers. Annoyed that she was bringing their party down, the king and his courtiers jeered at and insulted her.

Desperate to prove the truth, Cassandra grabbed an axe to break it open and show them what they would not let her tell them, but they took it away and laughed at her some more.

I don’t have to imagine how frustrating this was. I know. Like many HSPs, I often perceive things that others don’t. I learned a long time ago that these truths are not always welcomed by people who have not yet seen them (or are working very hard not to). 

But wouldn’t you think immediate physical danger was a special case? It’s only natural that people would pay attention when it was a question of their own survival. Isn’t it? Continue reading

Depression is Not a Personality Type

Depression is not a personality type. It is a painful, confusing, exhausting, and PREVENTABLE impairment of the most important organ in your body.

A statue of a sensitive young face. The statue has been broekn and repaired, so that there are cracks, and small pieces missing from the face.

Speaking Ill of the Dead

The profile of a person with his finger in front of his lips in a shushing gestureIt has become increasingly obvious over the past few years that figuring out how to make a living is a – if not the – major issue of my life. For those of you who speak astrologese, Saturn in the second house squares my sun. Translated, Saturn represents limitations, the second house concerns self-worth and income, the sun expresses identity, and a square indicates major challenges. Yup, sounds about right.

So the fact that I stayed at my last job only two months is not much of a surprise. It’s more surprising that I took the job in the first place. The pay was very low, the owner was laden with obvious baggage, and the work sounded overwhelming to HSP/introvert-me. But it was close enough to home to walk, and I felt an intuitive impulse to try it anyway. I just had a feeling it would be a worthwhile experience whatever happened.

Piggybank with a large hole going through from one side to the other showing that it's emptyAnd that turned out to be the case. I learned a lot about what I enjoy and need in a job, which is certainly an area in which any new insights are welcome. However, I was already financially behind when I started, and the job never came close to meeting my financial needs, despite representations that were made to me at the start. So it’s back to the food bank. I’m trying to stay optimistic, but it isn’t easy.

One of the things that makes poverty and confusion even more difficult than usual is family conflict in the wake of my father’s recent death. I guess it’s natural for people to focus on a person’s positive attributes after death, since that is what they miss about him. Out of respect for others’ pain, I sat out of that conversation. But my family members could not quite return the favor. Instead, they nudged posthumous accolades about what a great guy he was at me, as if to say, everybody loved him, baby, what’s the matter with you?

Is it so terrible to speak honestly of the dead – and the living?

In answer, I offered to give them a whole lot of excellent and historically verifiable reasons why I feel as I do, but was told that now is not the time. Only a brute would argue with that, but let’s be honest, my inconvenient truths were no more welcome in happier times.

Being the family truth-teller sucks. Continue reading