早春的氣溫依然很低，老婆裹著薄薄的風衣，迎著晚風瑟瑟發抖。一路上，老婆一直沒有開口說話，不過她一向如此，所以我也並沒怎麼在意。沒人喜歡嘮叨的人，長輩們更喜歡沈默的女人，我原本不安的心馬上平靜了下來。

社長夫婦、常務和專務夫婦已先來一步，部長夫婦二人也緊隨我們之後而來。我們彼此打過招呼之後，老婆和我脫下外套掛在了衣架上。社長夫人的雙眉修得細細的，脖子上掛著一條大大的翡翠項鍊，傲慢而貴氣。我們在她的指引下來到了晚餐的長桌前。看來其他人經常光顧這家店，他們熟門熟路，顯得很放鬆。

我抬頭望著裝飾得頗有古風的天花板，又瞟了一眼在石質魚缸中嬉戲的金魚後，在自己的座位上坐了下來。 我無意識地回望了老婆一眼，她的乳房毫無防備地映人了我的眼簾。 她今天穿著一件緊身的黑色襯衣，兩只乳頭的輪廓清晰可見。毫無疑問，她今天又沒戴文胸。當我抬起雙眼觀望別人的臉色時，正好撞上了部長夫人的視線。她故作泰然，眼神中卻夾雜著好奇與驚訝，還有一絲輕蔑。

我感到臉頰微微泛紅。老婆並沒有參與女人之間的談話，只是茫然地坐在那裡，我一邊意識到大家的眼神都在瞟向她，一邊強迫自己鎮靜下來。因為在這種情況下，使自己最大限度地保持自然才算是上策。
“這個地方好找吧？”社長夫人向我問道。

“以前路過一次，前院設計得非常漂亮，這裡真是 一個讓人想進來看看的地方啊。”
“啊，是嗎？……庭院是不錯，要是白天來就更美了。從那扇小窗戶中還可以看到花壇。”
然而，當菜餚開始上桌時，我艱難維持至今的鎮定 再也難以為繼了。

面前擺放的第一道菜是蕩平菜①：這是一道將綠豆粉絲和香菇、牛肉等涼拌的清雅菜餚。當服務員拿起湯匙為老婆面前的餐碟盛放料理的一剎那，坐在椅子上一直沒有開口的老婆突然用低沈的聲音說道：
“我不想吃。”

雖然這聲音非常小，但是，餐桌前的人們還是都停了下來。大家驚訝的視線齊刷刷地落在了老婆的身上，這次她提高了自己的嗓門：
“我⋯⋯不吃肉的。”

“那麼，就是素食主義者囉？”
社長用豪放的語調問道。

“在國外，有著嚴格的素食主義者。在我國現在也開始漸漸地風行素食，特別是最近輿論頻繁對肉食者發動攻擊••如果想長壽，必須得戒肉，這並不無道理。”

“即便這樣，一點兒肉都不吃的話，能活下去嗎？”
社長夫人面含微笑地說。

老婆的碗碟空空蕩蕩，服務員在其餘九人的餐碟盛滿佳餚後悄然退下。人們的話題自然而然地轉到了素食主義上。

“不久前不是發現了五十萬年前的木乃伊嗎？這具木乃伊身上也有狩獵的痕跡。食肉是人的本能，素食，自然也就是違背人的這種本能，顯然這是有悖常理的。”
“最近好像因為四象體質，出現了素食主義者⋯

我也去過好多地方想弄清自己的體質，可是每去一處都有不同的說法。每當這時我便嘗試著改變飲食結構，但心裡始終還是不踏實••所以我認為飲食均勻搭配是最合理的。”

“均衡膳食難道還會不健康嗎？不挑食就是身心健 康的證據啊。”

一直拿眼瞟著老婆前胸的專務夫人說道。顯然，她的矛頭已經開始直指我老婆了。
“吃素的理由是什麼？因為健康•••或者是因為宗 教原因？”
“不是的。”

老婆似乎全然沒有意識到今晚的宴請對我來說是多麼的來之不易。她安然自若地回答著，突然間，我感覺到一陣戰慄——因為直覺早已告訴我老婆要說什麼。
“我 ⋯ 做夢了。”

我快速地接過老婆的話茬兒：
“我夫人一直患有腸胃疾病，睡眠總是不好。按韓醫的囑咐，戒肉之後逐漸康復了。”

於是人們紛紛點頭：
“夠幸運啊。我還沒有和真正的素食主義者一起吃過飯呢。和那些認為我吃肉的行為無比惡心的人共進晚餐，這該是多麼可怕啊。以堂而皇之的精神理由選擇素食，不就是對肉食的嫌棄嗎？難道不是嗎？”

“用筷子卷著扭動不止的三足章魚放到嘴裡嚼得津津有味，坐在旁邊的女人像是盯著禽獸一樣看著你，這是一種怎樣的氣氛呢？”

所有人都哈哈大笑起來。我也附和著大家發出笑聲，然而我卻清楚地意識到老婆並沒有笑出來，也根本沒有在聽大家的對話，而是緊緊地盯著人們殘留在嘴唇上的油汁。這種行為讓大家心中著實不快。

下道菜是乾烹雞，而後是金槍魚片。大家都在盡情地享用著美食，唯有老婆坐在那裡一動不動。小橡果一樣的乳頭在她的襯衣中呼之欲出，她的視線像是要吸乾在座諸位的雙唇，吸乾他們嘴唇的每一個微小動作。十餘種美味佳餚輪番上陣，一直到饕餮盛宴華麗落幕，老婆吃到嘴裡的只是沙拉、泡菜和南瓜湯，就連風味獨特的糯米鳥蛋粥也因為盛在了肉湯里而一口未沾。人們開始慢慢地忽略了老婆的存在，繼續談笑風生，同情我的人偶爾問些無關痛癢的問題，但我覺得他們連我都開始敬而遠之了。

飯後果盤上桌，老婆只吃了一塊蘋果和橙子。

“你不餓嗎？看你可沒怎麼吃啊！”

社長夫人用形式化的社交語調問候老婆。老婆沒有笑，沒有臉紅，也沒有絲毫遲疑，只是默不作聲地注視著這個女人優雅的妝容。她的凝視讓在座的人大掃興。老婆知道這是怎樣的一次晚宴嗎？會知道面前的中年女人是誰嗎？一瞬間，我感受到老婆那我從未進人過的頭腦，真像是一個深不可測的陷阱。


① 蕩平菜：朝鮮歷史名菜，源於1725年左右的朝鮮英祖時期，當時黨派紛爭，英祖便實行“蕩平”策略，屢設酒席宴請各黨派。後來還親自設計了這一道用4種不同顏色的蔬菜所做的菜式，以顯示團結的重要性，最終平息了紛爭。

Han Kang: The vegetarian : a novel, 2007
translated by Deborah Smith.

pp.19-21

My boss, the managing director and the executive director had already arrived, along with their wives. The section chief and his wife turned up a few minutes after us, completing the party. There were nods and smiles all around as we exchanged greetings, took off our coats and hung them up.

My boss’s wife, an imposing woman with finely plucked eyebrows and a large jade necklace clacking at her throat, escorted my wife and me over to the dining table, already laid for what promised to be a lavish meal, and sat down at the head of the table. The others all seemed quite at ease, like regulars.

I took my seat, careful not to be seen to gawp at the ornate ceiling, which was as elaborately decorated as the eaves of a traditional building. My gaze was arrested by the sight of goldfish swimming lazily in a glass bowl, and I turned to address my wife, but what I saw there brought me up short.

She was wearing a slightly clinging black blouse, and to my utter mortification I saw that the outline of her nipples was clearly visible through the fabric. Without a doubt, she’d come out without a bra. When the other guests surreptitiously craned their necks, no doubt wanting to be sure that they really were seeing what they thought they were, the eyes of the executive director’s wife met mine.

Feigning composure, I registered the curiosity, astonishment, and contempt that were revealed in turn in her eyes.

I could feel my cheeks flushing. All too conscious of my wife, sitting there hollow-eyed and making no attempt to join in with the other women’s exchange of pleasantries, I controlled myself and decided that the best thing to do, the only thing to do, was to act natural and pretend that there was nothing untoward.

“Did you have any problems finding the place?” my boss’s wife asked me.

“No, no, I’ve been past here once or twice before. In fact, I’d been thinking of coming here myself.”

“Ah, I see…yes, the garden has turned out quite well, hasn’t it? You ought to try coming in the daytime; you can see the flower beds through that window over there.”

But by the time the food began to be served, the strain of maintaining a casual facade, which I had just about managed so far, was bringing me close to breaking point.

The first thing placed in front of us was an exquisite dish of mung-bean jelly, dressed with thin slivers of green-pea jelly, mushrooms and beef. Up until then my wife had merely sat and observed the scene in silence, but just as the waiter was on the point of ladling some onto her plate, she finally opened her mouth.

“I won’t eat it.”

She’d spoken very quietly, but the other guests all instantly stopped what they were doing, directing glances of surprise and wonder at her emaciated body.

“I don’t eat meat,” she said, slightly louder this time.

“My word, so you’re one of those ‘vegetarians,’ are you?” my boss asked. “Well, I knew that some people in other countries are strict vegetarians, of course. And even here, you know, it does seem that attitudes are beginning to change a little. Now and then there’ll be someone claiming that eating meat is bad…after all, I suppose giving up meat in order to live a long life isn’t all that unreasonable, is it?”

“But surely it isn’t possible to live without eating meat?” his wife asked with a smile.

The waiter whisked nine plates away, leaving my wife’s still-gleaming plate on the table. The conversation naturally continued on the topic of vegetarianism.

“Do you remember those mummified human remains they discovered recently? Five hundred thousand years old, apparently, and even back then humans were hunting for meat—they could tell that from the skeletons. Meat eating is a fundamental human instinct, which means vegetarianism goes against human nature, right? It just isn’t natural.”

“People mainly used to turn vegetarian because they subscribed to a certain ideology…I’ve been to various doctors myself, to have some tests done and see if there was anything in particular I ought to be avoiding, but everywhere I went I was told something different…in any case, the idea of a special diet always made me feel uncomfortable. It seems to me that one shouldn’t be too narrow-minded when it comes to food.”

“People who arbitrarily cut out this or that food, even though they’re not actually allergic to anything—that’s what I would call narrow-minded,” the executive director’s wife chimed in; she had been sneaking sideways glances at my wife’s breasts for some time now. “A balanced diet goes hand in hand with a balanced mind, don’t you think?” And now she loosed her arrow directly at my wife.

“Was there some special reason for your becoming a vegetarian? Health reasons, for example…or religious, perhaps?”

“No.” Her cool reply proved that she was completely oblivious to how delicate the situation had become. All of a sudden, a shiver ran through me—because I had a gut feeling that I knew what she was about to say next.

“I had a dream.”

I hurriedly spoke over her.

“For a long time my wife used to suffer from gastroenteritis, which was so acute that it disturbed her sleep, you see. A dietitian advised her to give up meat, and her symptoms got a lot better after that.”

Only then did the others nod in understanding.

“Well, I must say, I’m glad I’ve still never sat down with a proper vegetarian. I’d hate to share a meal with someone who considers eating meat repulsive, just because that’s how they themselves personally feel…don’t you agree?”

“Imagine you were snatching up a wriggling baby octopus with your chopsticks and chomping it to death—and the woman across from you glared like you were some kind of animal. That must be how it feels to sit down and eat with a vegetarian!”

The group broke out into laughter, and I was conscious of each and every separate laugh. Needless to say, my wife didn’t so much as crack a smile. By now, everyone was busy making sure that their mouths were fully occupied with eating, so that it wouldn’t be up to them to try and fill the awkward silences that were now peppering the conversation. It was clear that they were all uncomfortable.

The next dish was fried chicken in a chili and garlic sauce, and after that was raw tuna. My wife sat there immobile while everyone else tucked in, her nipples resembling a pair of acorns as they pushed against the fabric of her blouse. Her gaze roamed intently over the rapidly working mouths of the other guests, delving into every nook and cranny as though intending to soak up every little detail.

By the time the twelve magnificent courses were over, my wife had eaten nothing but salad and kimchi, and a little bit of squash porridge. She hadn’t even touched the sticky-rice porridge, as they had used a special recipe involving beef stock to give it a rich, luxurious taste. Gradually, the other guests learned to ignore her presence and the conversation started to flow again. Now and then, perhaps out of pity, they made an effort to include me, but in my heart of hearts I knew that they wanted to keep a certain distance between us.

When fruit was brought out for dessert my wife ate one small slice of apple and a single orange segment.

“You’re not hungry? But, my goodness, you’ve barely eaten anything!” There was something flamboyant about the friendly, sociable tone in which my boss’s wife expressed her concern. But the demure, apologetic smile that was the only reasonable response never came, and without even having the grace to look embarrassed, my wife simply stared baldly at my boss’s wife. That stare appalled everyone present. Did she not even recognize the situation for what it was? Was it possible that she hadn’t grasped the status of the elegant middle-aged woman facing her? What shadowy recesses lurked in her mind, what secrets I’d never suspected? In that moment, she was utterly unknowable.