10.05.2024

READ THIS: Tender is the Flesh

   Nearly everything that I sought out from horror movies has disappointed. The gore, fear, nightmares, it doesn't exist anymore. Even the highly anticipated Longlegs was merely cute. The experience has since left me and I remember nothing except for some T-Rex needle drops. Imagination and practical effects are dead. Just look at Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. Praised by Michael Keaton himself for going old school with its puppetry and make-up, but all I could see was the eye wincing uses of CGI, never mind the shit script and ahem, poor direction. So I've turned to books instead. My twisted imagination is dark and twisty enough to entertain for a lifetime. I've gone so far as joining some horror and psychological thriller book Facebook groups to get the goods. And man, do they deliver.

   The general consensus was that the Argentinian-English-translated novella, "Tender is the Flesh", by Agustina Bazterrica, was gross. Set in a future where every animal, excluding humans, have been killed by a virus, and people have turned to cannibalism, but in a very bleak and regulated way. This is all seen through the eyes of one man, sadly in a position of having to keep things in the "meat industry" moving swiftly and cleanly, bearing witness to every heinous act against a person, and unfortunately becoming desensitized to the whole orchestration.


   Our tired, and grieving main character walks us through every factory doorway and businessman's home, showing us penises being consumed as delicacies, pregnant women running scared through the woods as targets for sport, and the "human slaughter." It's puke-inducing and hurtful. And sadly, this story is not at all implausible, which is probably its most terrifying core. 

   This work of fiction is an abomination and affront to God and I thank it dearly for ruining me the way art should. In fact, I am now a vegetarian, not able to look at flesh for food the same way again. I goddamn anyone that turns it into a movie. It will either be completely shred and stripped of its evil and carnivorous content or so unbelievably disgusting that it will be unwatchable. 

   Funny thing though, I sought this literature out from my library, a valuable resource to me, as I discovered I can typically read a book every few days, which would undoubtedly put us in the poor house if I were to purchase so frequently. I noticed when I was pinged at its arrival that it was sent from a local library's "Young Adult Section." I didn't think much of it until after I was done reading it, and then I was nervous to return it. Due to its short length, I felt strongly that the library shuffled it away to the incorrect spot. What if this book accidentally landed in the hands of some eleven year old, unaware of what he/she/they was getting into to? I felt responsible. I wanted to contact the library and warn them, but would that make me a Karen? This was plaguing me, but ultimately I just returned the book, and left it up to fate. So shall it be.  

- Babes

1 comment:

Luke said...

I read Tender Is the Flesh last year and it felt like getting a sledgehammer to the head when I finished it.

There is a vitality and openness to the horror I am finding in books I haven't been finding in film. The horror that has made my skin crawl and hair on the back of my neck stand up has been on the printed page and not on the movie screen. There's the occasional movie that slips through and manages to do it. But it's not enough.

Bazterrica's book is also a nice gateway to go down the rabbit hole of Argentinian and Central American literature. Mariana Enriquez's Our Share of the Night and Fernanda Melchor's Hurrican Season are two such books that work their bewitched magic on the reader.

I can only hope this is the first of many READ THIS segments.