Tender Is the Flesh

Argentine writer Bazterrica’s uneven English-language debut disturbs with a vision of human cruelty and moral flexibility. Bazterrica efficiently establishes the premise: an animal-borne virus has led to the mass slaughter of all livestock, forcing the hungry populace to look for protein elsewhere (“At a chilling speed the world was put back together and cannibalism was legitimized”). Marcos Tejo works for a processing plant that slaughters genetically modified humans, or “head,” for consumption. Marcos is a dour character, emotionally hollow after the death of his son and working in a profession he despises to support his ailing father. After one of his clients gives him as a gift a “First Generation Pure” female—captive-bred, non-GMO human livestock—he begins to lust for her, though it’s a capital crime to “enjoy” females meant for breeding. Bazterrica is best when clinically describing the mechanisms of the harvesting process, from breeding to killing to butchering. These entrancing scenes normalize the brutality with euphemisms, demonstrating the Orwellian potential of language to “cover up the world.” The prose, though, can be overwrought at times—notably during a sex scene taking place on a bloody butchering table—but Bazterrica’s purposely unappetizing conceit makes for a powerful allegory on the human consumption of animals. Still, the execution will leave a bad taste in the reader’s mouth. (Aug.)