Tender Is The Flesh
by
Agustina Bazterrica
Horror, Extreme, Dystopia
Richard Alex Jenkins
Tender is The Flesh is a messed up dystopian paradox in which the rich and privileged do what they want, eat whatever they like and discriminate against other humans like cattle gone, literally, to the slaughter.
It's an improbable concept that might exist in the future, but also feels rather outlandish at times.
Let's imagine a future dystopia in thousands of years when space travel is like popping down the local shops. We come across planet Mulch, ruled by cows, who breed other cows for sustenance in a sort of inverse cannibalistic society, except that's what we do right now, breed and slaughter millions of animals every day.
So why not humans in their place if meat suddenly becomes unavailable? Lobotomise inferior people, cage them off and handle them like edible meat?
That's what happens in Tender Is The Flesh, with a concept, ideas and sinister details that are well thought out. A scary society in which we no longer care about humanity as a sacred upper existence unique to ourselves, just as we couldn't care less about the dead cows that produce the beef that sits on our plates during Sunday lunch.
The building blocks are set in place for a possible classic such as 1984 by George Orwell, taken to a whole new level of segregation and detachment, and yet this isn't a five-star read because the character development leaves a lot to be desired and the concepts behind the horrors of human meat trafficking are more shocking than the execution of the book itself.
Tender Is The Flesh reads like a technical manual at times rather than an exciting thriller, told from a detached third-party account into the nightmares of a rubber-stamped cannibal society, but not from the heart, eyes or perspective of any of the victims, only the judge, jury and executioner. It often reads like an industrial guide rather than a work of thrilling fiction.
In a stressed dystopian environment you're not supposed to feel any hope and the book succeeds in doing that by creating a sordid sense of privileged depravity and perverse nightmare, but interpersonal relationships are rarely heartfelt or vulnerable enough at emotional level. There's no pleading with anyone to stop behaving this way and rarely any anger or disgust at the lack of human empathy and warmth and, with the exception of a few scenes, I rarely cared or felt emotionally involved or shocked by anything.
This is nearly a masterpiece of dystopian horror, as distant, impersonal and wildy deranged, but although visionary, comes across as too technical and cold for top marks.
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