What If We Were All Cannibals?
Tender is the Flesh is a novel about a woman in a modern society with a twist: the butchers serve people instead of cows and pigs.
Imagine a world where all animal meat was contaminated, and the only viable alternative source of meat was other humans. Agustina Bazterrica did just that in Tender is the Flesh.
You’d expect a radically different world in a cannibalistic society. Bazterrica’s world delivers on that. It’s a paranoid world. Families cremate their loved ones so their bodies don’t become a scavenger’s next meal. Wealthy patrons can afford safe animal meat, but they’re not above buying cuts of humans if they’re delicate enough.
However, there are some recognizable human universals in this messy world. There’s a privileged class of people that can afford the finest animal and human cuts. An underclass scavenges for the meat they can find. However, there’s an even lower class of nameless people used to breed.
We see the eyes of this world through Marcos, a slaughterhouse worker who raises humans to be sold to various parts of this macabre supply chain.
Dignity is a Universal Human Desire
Early in the novel, Marcos visits a breeding facility owned by someone named El Something. El Something is giving a German visitor, Egmont Schrei, a tour of the plant. Marcos has to join them before discussing business.
They begin with the males in the breeding pens. El Something describes the teaser stud, a man who detects when the women are in heat by “mounting” them. The teaser has had a vasectomy, so he can’t reproduce and ruin the gene pool. Other studs provide the semen for artificial insemination. The facility remains in control of the breeding process from start to finish.
Despite the inhumane conditions these naked men live in, El Gringo and Marcos can’t keep themselves from recognizing the studs’ humanity. El Gringo “laughs a little uncomfortably” when the German questions the use of a teaser stud since “they’re humans.” The humans in the breeding facility aren’t allowed to be called humans. Marcos also reacts to El Gringo calling the humans “merchandise” by noting that it’s “another word that obscures the world.”
Egmont also remarks that the teaser stud “doesn’t lead too bad a life.” Immediately, “El Gringo looks at Egmont with surprise and laughs to hide the mix of irritation and disgust he feels.”
The recognition of lives robbed on an industrial scale never escapes the people who work in the human processing industry. It’s buried beneath the language they use to describe the humans — heads — and the adoption of processes used to process livestock. The people working throughout the supply chain see what’s being done to this underclass of people, but continue working in it anyway.
While the situation of the men is frightening, the processes applied to the women is far worse.
Desperation is also Universal
While El Gringo speaks to Egmont about a shipping matter, Marcos notices the pens of impregnated females:
“On the way to the exit, they pass the barn where the impregnated females are kept. Some are in cages, others lie on tables. They have no arms or legs.”
Already chilling, Marcos’ recognition of how wrong the setup is makes the whole world even more dystopian:
“He looks away. He knows that at many breeding centers it’s common practice to maim the impregnated females, who otherwise would kill their fetuses by ramming their stomachs against the bars of their cage, or by not eating, doing whatever it takes to prevent their babies from being born and dying in a processing plant. If only they knew, he thinks.”
Again, Marcos understands the immorality of what he’s seeing and what he’s a part of. He recognizes the humanity of his fellow creatures forced to live in captivity, then slaughtered. The women in the pens also recognize the horrors they’re forced to endure by accident of birth and don’t want that future for their children.
However, Marcos’ recognition doesn’t stop the great machine of industry from pushing people through the facilities and to the butchers and tanners and other businesses that run the cannibalism industry.
But the most damning picture of the novel comes from Marcos’ initial reaction to the worst of the atrocities. He looks away.
Dance Around It
Tender is the Flesh isn’t just an interesting thought experiment. It’s an exploration of how language is used to conceal cruelty. The book follows the conscience of a grieving father and how an entire society can work together to uphold horrific acts.
It’s a reminder that evil can propagate itself only as long as good people turn away from it. The failure to confront evil allows it to spread. Tender is the Flesh is a short novel with many moral lessons to impart without being condescending or preachy.
It’s a phenomenal read that’ll leave you thinking about it years after you’ve read it for the first time.