Humanity's Darkest Depths: A Review of "Tender is the Flesh"

My introduction to Tender is the Flesh occurred when my partner mentioned it while we were watching a documentary with a short clip of animal rights activists dressed like cows. “Oh, it’s like Tender is the Flesh,” she joked. When I didn’t get the reference, she went into this spiel about this strange book she had heard of that had been on her TBR pile but had never gotten around to reading it.

I was intrigued.

Tender is the Flesh, penned by Agustina Bazterrica and originally published as Cadáver Exquisitoin 2017, is a speculative fiction psychological horror novel in which cannibalism is not only legal but also normalized.

Here is what I thought of Tender of The Flesh and whether I thought the book truly lived up to the themes it grappled with:

The Main Premise of Tender is the Flesh

Okay, so the cannibalism thing. The premise of the book is that this is a dystopian world that, after a virus has wiped out the animal population, has allowed human meat for consumption after government sanctions. While cannibalism is a fairly common apocalyptic trope, this novel dives into it completely.

In case you were assuming that this means Purge-style cannibalism where everyone can eat everyone – no, the book makes it clear that there is the possibility of eating “lower” level meat, with all the risks, but that there are humans, or “heads” as they are called, that are specifically bred to become meat, or meat byproducts later. All of this is set up in the same way that factory farming of cattle occurs.

I would admit that going into the novel, I found it hard to suspend my disbelief. I found it hard to believe that there were no animals because a virus that is zoonotic to the point that it would jump all species, but not also eradicate humans does not make sense. The book states that there are no wild animals either, but what of fish? If there were no fish, wild animals, factory animals, or even bugs, well, then it would no longer be a sustainable world – the oceans would collapse, vegetation would overgrow and then die – you get the idea.  

But I digress.

Detachment and Dehumanization

If you can set the extraordinary premise aside then the main achievement of the novel lies in Bazterrica’s thematic exploration of detachment and humanization. The novel’s cold, clinical prose mirrors the society it depicts, one where humans are reduced to mere meat. There must be a detachment for this book to work, otherwise – well no one would be inclined to eat the “heads” available. Further, this detachment greatly models the nature of factory farmers. We don’t see momma cow, with her fluffy head and wide nose, whose milk we drink, nor do we see the powerful and stoic steer that makes up our burgers.

We see meat because we treat it as such.

While I appreciated the coldness, at times this made the characters appear stilted and one-dimensional. The conversions, while interesting, sometimes came off dry. Marcos especially seemed so indifferent to everything, which was a cornerstone to his character, but I felt I needed to know more, but not in a way that made me yearn to progress. Moreso like I felt like something was missing.

Despite this, I appreciate the author’s willingness to create this emotional distance because it reiterates the awful truth that to accept the tragedies of their situation, humans must lose their humanity.

Character Development and Motivations

Although Bazterrica does a good job of creating an unsettling and sometimes outright disturbing atmosphere, the character development is lacking. Relationships like those between the main character Marcos and his family and his interactions with the woman he starts seeing are shown as having little depth and believable motivation.

 For example, touching back on the aunt, niece, and nephew characters, I felt like they could have been pushed further. Is their inclusion an exploration of the greed of humanity, which goes beyond meat consumption? Are the nieces and nephews supposed to show that humanity is evolving out of each generation because of the nature of their food? We, the audience, could have greatly benefited from further understanding their point of view, especially their motivations in their behavior in this world.

As a result of this lack of depth, these inclusions go into clichéd territories, like the "creepy children" trope, when they should have been opportunities to explore the subtleties of human reactions to the nightmare world.

Furthermore, these relationships' emotional dynamics to themselves and each other are undeveloped, which makes it challenging to understand the characters' actual motivations and emotional states.

The Evolution of Marcos (Spoiler Alert)

Much of the conflict in the book centers on the “human livestock” character, Jasmine (a name Marcos gives her because she smells of wildflowers). Marcos is allowed to have her on his property, but there are rules about her disposal and consumption (it feels so weird to type that lol) and he cannot be intimate with her.

Spoiler warning for the rest of this paragraph:

Naturally, Marcos forms a pseudo-relationship, if you can call it that, with Jasmine. Despite him offering her tender touches, somewhat better accommodations, and eventually having sex with her, there isn’t that much of a strong emotional connection between Marcos and Jasmine, which lessens the shock and emotional impact of the latter's eventual slaughter.

Although Marcos's meatless diet suggested he would have a moral epiphany, their relationship frequently lacks the intense tension one might anticipate. One could argue that Marcos never saw her as anything more than a piece of meat, and ultimately, that ends up being true, but in my most humble opinion, a clearer internal conflict for Marcos would have helped the story emphasize the moral dilemma he experiences and perhaps increased the impact of Jasmine's unfortunate demise.

Horror Elements and Narrative Execution

I am sure there are dissenting opinions on this, but in my opinion, Tender is the Flesh is most effective in its normalization of the macabre.

The sudden changes from the ordinary to the terrifying are startlingly effective, demonstrating Bazterrica's capacity to deeply unnerve her audience.

At times, though, this can off a little repetitive, and eventually it can become slightly formulaic. I got lost, for example, in the cult or the people that clamored to get dropped flesh – I would have liked that to be explored more because this is such a horrifying world and to me, the terror potential lies in the many ways in which humans can show the truth of their ugliness.

The novel's concept and subject investigation are intriguing, but occasionally the execution falls short of the promise of the idea, leaving unrealized potential.

A Bleak Mirror Held Up to Society

Tender is the Flesh is a thought-provoking investigation of moral decline and societal collapse. Agustina Bazterrica presents a grim future that may be too far-fetched for some people, but it unquestionably acts as a powerful metaphor for the moral conundrums that face modern consumerism and commodification.

Although the novel's emotional impact and character development may not match the heights of its ambitious topics, its disturbing portrayal of a dehumanized society and terrifying premise makes it a notable addition to the pantheon of dystopian literature.

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