book talk: tender is the flesh
After the “animal virus” deems all animals inedible, humans take it upon themselves to erase them. In replacement, humans are bred and slaughtered for meat, just as they once did a cow or a pig. The government legalizes cannibalism, and slaughterhouses refine their practices to produce the highest quality of what is now referred to as, “special meat.” I won't get into all the disturbing practices, but what struck me the most is the “special meat” have their vocal cords removed so they can't scream or communicate with each other.
The main character, Marcos, is a thinker. He reads people by the words they choose to say. Marcos is still hurting from the sudden death of his child and it doesn't help that his wife leaving him, and his father’s health is dwindling.
Marcos works at the processing plant, where the “head” is prepared for consumption. He is the owner’s right-hand man. Marcos hates everything about his line of work, but it allows him to live comfortably, and it keeps his father in the most expensive nursing home where he can receive the best care.
While this book makes me a bit queasy and I definitely lose my appetite after reading it, I still eagerly flip to the next page.
The dystopian society Bazterrica writes of doesn't seem too far-fetched. We haven't even fully handled COVID and now we have monkeypox. Who’s to say we won't start eating each other within the next couple of years?
I think that makes me the most uneasy. The world I am living in today is in close proximity to the fictional world Bazterrica creates.
On the theme of words: Bazterrica makes it clear that words are a central theme by spending the first page explaining Marcos and his relationship with words. She ends the page by writing, “his brain warns him that there are words that cover up the world.” Throughout the novel, Bazterrica narrates Marcos’ internal battle with what things really are, and what we call them (or what we are forced to call them). This got me thinking about our names, labels, and categories. As a society, we are slowly questioning the impact words have. The efforts of vocal individuals has pushed to turn “illegal immigrant” into “undocumented,” “victim” to “survivor,” “The Washington Redskins” to “The Washington Football Team,” “Beaners” to “Wussow’s Concert Cafe.” Tender is the Flesh shows what happens when we stop questioning words. Horror. Terror. The ugliest world.
Bazterrica is also saying something about masculinity with this novel. Marcos is deeply bothered that no one gave him condolences after his son passed, all the thoughts and prayers were given to his wife. This left a hole in his heart that grew and actually manifested into how he treated the breeding female he owns. I won’t spoil it for you.
Quotes that I read twice:
“No one can call them humans because that would mean giving them an identity. They call them product, or meat, or food. Except for him; he would prefer not to have to call them by any name.” Page 8.
“He knows she’s serious. And that this conversation is prohibited, that these words could cause major problems for them. But he needs someone to say what no one does.” Page 38.
“She had the human look of a domesticated animal.” Last sentence on the last page in the book.
About the author:
“Agustina Bazterrica is an Argentine novelist and short story writer. She has received several awards for her writing, most notably the prestigious Clarín Novela Prize for her second novel, Tender is the Flesh, which has been translated into nine languages and optioned for television.”
