Does 'If I Had Your Face' Critique Plastic Surgery Culture?

Cha's novel, "If I Had Your Face," examines the culture surrounding cosmetic procedures with a level of sophistication exceeding typical analyses. While Cha's characters inhabit an environment where blepharoplasty is perceived as a normal present, the narrative avoids condemning their choices. The striking element is its depiction of surgery as both a constraint and a potential liberation; these individuals are presented not as helpless, but as actors strategically maneuvering within a biased structure. The salon portrayals, featuring clients exchanging clinic advice analogous to restaurant reviews, illustrate the pervasiveness of this culture. The true commentary emerges in understated instances, such as Kyuri's recognition that her "perfect" appearance leads to her becoming replaceable at the room salon. The novel’s perspective is less against surgical intervention itself, and more against the self-deception, illustrating the inescapable dilemmas generated by beauty standards, irrespective of compliance or opposition.

Frances Cha's *If I Had Your Face* offers a compelling examination of Seoul's pervasive beauty ideals, reflecting a mirror-like image of the societal pressures. The narrative provides a meticulous analysis of cosmetic surgery culture through the experiences of four women. Ara's narrative, in particular, resonated deeply, illustrating a mute hairstylist's attempt to alleviate poverty through facial reconstruction, only to discover that beauty cannot articulate her underlying anguish. Kyuri's workplace, a salon's VIP space, exemplifies how cosmetic enhancements function as a form of social capital, with procedures like jawline shaving being commonplace. The novel's strength lies in its exploration of the psychological consequences hidden beneath the glamorous facade of Gangnam's beauty industry. Characters undergo procedures not merely for aesthetic reasons but to address deep-seated insecurities or gain recognition in a society that commodifies appearances. The author effectively contrasts the reactions of Western readers with the acceptance displayed by Korean characters, prompting reflection on culturally normalized practices. The portrayal of Miho's boyfriend, an art collector, capturing her pre-surgery appearance as "authentic" while simultaneously encouraging surgical enhancements, epitomizes the novel's insightful exploration of how individuals, including critics, perpetuate the system. Sujin's experience, where a flawed procedure becomes a symbolic resistance to the pursuit of flawlessness, represents a quiet rebellion. Her application of cartoon stickers to her bandages signifies not only physical recovery but also a redefinition of conventional standards. Cha avoids simplistic conclusions regarding the empowering or restrictive effects of surgery on these women, and this complexity is central to the critique's potency. The diverse relationships that the characters have with their altered appearances contribute to a depiction of contemporary womanhood, where self-contempt and empowerment often coexist.