Greek Lessons is something that needs to be savoured, and taken in slowly. You cannot read it in one sitting, and while it may seem a deceptively small book, do not be fooled. Its ideas, expression, emotions, and thoughts are huge, and take time to process, to understand, to make sense of, and ultimately connect with.
Greek Lessons also grows on the reader. I must admit that initially I thought it was going nowhere, but as the relationship between the two protagonists develops, takes a certain unnameable form and shape, you begin to see the layers Kang lays out for the reader – the several emotions that are in conflict, and done in both first person, for the man and third person, for the woman.
The woman has lost her mother, and is still processing the loss of her son to the custody of her ex-husband, and in all of this, she loses her ability to speak. The man is on the other hand trying to make sense of his life, of identity, of belonging, and to come to terms with the loss of his eyesight, that will eventually blind him. It is with all of this happening that the woman begins attending ancient Greek lessons taught by the man at a private academy, and their relationship forms shape from thereon.
There is no definite plot. There is no definite structure. The characters are unnamed, even though the entire book is about them. The discourse on language and what remains and what leaves during translation is almost meta, given the book is a translation from the Korean by Deborah Smith and Emily Yae Won – so it is almost surreal to see how language sometimes fails in expression of grief – to the point of learning a new one and yet not being able to express. In how ideas that come through by the use of language maybe aren’t enough – of how a man who has the words, doesn’t have the emotions, and the woman who has all the emotion, is short of words.
Greek Lessons is everything and nothing at all – all at the same time. You can clearly see the woman struggling with space – physical, metaphorical, and mostly when it comes to language. Han Kang’s women whether it is in The Vegetarian or even in Human Acts are constantly struggling with themselves and the world, and this beautiful translation depicts it in more than one way.
