In-hye Character Analysis

Before my wife turned vegetarian, I'd always thought of her as completely unremarkable in every way.

Though In-hye sprang at him and held him by the waist, in the instant that the force of the slap had knocked my wife's mouth open he'd managed to jam the pork in. As soon as the strength in Yeong-ho's arms was visibly exhausted, my wife growled and spat out the meat. An animal cry of distress burst from her lips.

In precisely that moment he was struck by the image of a blue flower on a woman’s buttocks, its petals opening outward. In his mind, the fact that his sister-in-law still had a Mongolian mark on her buttocks became inexplicably bound up with the image of men and women having sex, their naked bodies completely covered with painted flowers. The causality linking these two things was so clear, so obvious, as to be somehow beyond comprehension, and thus it became etched into his mind.

When it was all over, she was crying. He couldn't tell what these tears meant—pain, pleasure, passion, disgust, or some inscrutable loneliness that she would have been no more able to explain than he would have been to understand. He didn't know.

He stood up, stepped close to her and pushed her still-fevered body up against the wall. But when he pressed his lips firmly against hers, probing with his tongue, she shoved him away again.
“Why shouldn't we? Because I'm your brother-in-law?”
“No, it’s nothing to do with that.”
“Then why not? Come on, you said you were all wet!” She was silent. “Did you fancy that kid?”
“It wasn’t him, it was the flowers . . .”

He had to rush out onto the veranda, now, and throw himself over the railing against which she was leaning. He would fall down three floors and smash his head to pieces.

Look, sister, I'm doing a handstand, leaves are growing out of my body, roots are sprouting out of my hands…they delve down into the earth. Endlessly, endlessly…yes, I spread my legs because I wanted flowers to bloom from my crotch, I spread them wide…

No one can understand me…the doctors, the nurses, they’re all the same…they don't even try to understand…they just force me to take medication, and stab me with needles.

“I don't know you,” she muttered, tightening her grip on the receiver, which she’d hung back in the cradle but was still clutching. “So there's no need for us to forgive each other. Because I don't know you.”

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.

If her husband and Yeong-hye hadn't smashed through all the boundaries, if everything hadn't splintered apart, then perhaps she was the one who would have broken down, and if she'd let that happen, if she'd let go of the thread, she might never have found it again.

“Perhaps this is all a kind of dream.” She bows her head. But then, as though suddenly struck by something, she brings her mouth right up to Yeong-hye's ear and carries on speaking, forming the words carefully, one by one. “I have dreams too, you know. Dreams…and I could let myself dissolve into them, let them take me over…but surely the dream isn’t all there is? We have to wake up at some point, don’t we?”

Before my wife turned vegetarian, I'd always thought of her as completely unremarkable in every way.

Though In-hye sprang at him and held him by the waist, in the instant that the force of the slap had knocked my wife's mouth open he'd managed to jam the pork in. As soon as the strength in Yeong-ho's arms was visibly exhausted, my wife growled and spat out the meat. An animal cry of distress burst from her lips.

In precisely that moment he was struck by the image of a blue flower on a woman’s buttocks, its petals opening outward. In his mind, the fact that his sister-in-law still had a Mongolian mark on her buttocks became inexplicably bound up with the image of men and women having sex, their naked bodies completely covered with painted flowers. The causality linking these two things was so clear, so obvious, as to be somehow beyond comprehension, and thus it became etched into his mind.

When it was all over, she was crying. He couldn't tell what these tears meant—pain, pleasure, passion, disgust, or some inscrutable loneliness that she would have been no more able to explain than he would have been to understand. He didn't know.

He stood up, stepped close to her and pushed her still-fevered body up against the wall. But when he pressed his lips firmly against hers, probing with his tongue, she shoved him away again.
“Why shouldn't we? Because I'm your brother-in-law?”
“No, it’s nothing to do with that.”
“Then why not? Come on, you said you were all wet!” She was silent. “Did you fancy that kid?”
“It wasn’t him, it was the flowers . . .”

He had to rush out onto the veranda, now, and throw himself over the railing against which she was leaning. He would fall down three floors and smash his head to pieces.

Look, sister, I'm doing a handstand, leaves are growing out of my body, roots are sprouting out of my hands…they delve down into the earth. Endlessly, endlessly…yes, I spread my legs because I wanted flowers to bloom from my crotch, I spread them wide…

No one can understand me…the doctors, the nurses, they’re all the same…they don't even try to understand…they just force me to take medication, and stab me with needles.

“I don't know you,” she muttered, tightening her grip on the receiver, which she’d hung back in the cradle but was still clutching. “So there's no need for us to forgive each other. Because I don't know you.”

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.

If her husband and Yeong-hye hadn't smashed through all the boundaries, if everything hadn't splintered apart, then perhaps she was the one who would have broken down, and if she'd let that happen, if she'd let go of the thread, she might never have found it again.

“Perhaps this is all a kind of dream.” She bows her head. But then, as though suddenly struck by something, she brings her mouth right up to Yeong-hye's ear and carries on speaking, forming the words carefully, one by one. “I have dreams too, you know. Dreams…and I could let myself dissolve into them, let them take me over…but surely the dream isn’t all there is? We have to wake up at some point, don’t we?”