1 week Ago By Reviewed by Greg Klassen
When David Szalay’s All That Man Is came out in 2016, the book ignited a firestorm in the literary community. Consisting of nine interlocking stories, was this a new kind of novel or merely a book of short stories? That debate never ended definitively, but what was clear was that Szalay possessed a voice and style all his own. The book was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize.
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When David Szalay’s All That Man Is came out in 2016, the book ignited a firestorm in the literary community. Consisting of nine interlocking stories, was this a new kind of novel or merely a book of short stories? That debate never ended definitively, but what was clear was that Szalay possessed a voice and style all his own. The book was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize.
Read unlimited articles for free today: Already have an account? When David Szalay’s All That Man Is came out in 2016, the book ignited a firestorm in the literary community. Consisting of nine interlocking stories, was this a new kind of novel or merely a book of short stories? That debate never ended definitively, but what was clear was that Szalay possessed a voice and style all his own. The book was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize.
Fast forward nearly a decade, and the Montreal-born, Budapest-based author continues to ruminate on the urges and demands men experience in their bodies. Szalay’s sixth novel, Flesh, takes a considerably more traditional form, and the author continues to ask big questions. Do we have any control over our fate? Are we any more than the flesh in which we inhabit? Are we just slaves to our urges? opens with István, a taciturn 15-year-old boy living in a small Hungarian town with his mother.
Having recently moved, he struggles to find social agency at his new school. Julia Papp photo In his new novel, David Szalay’s economical writing style leaves significant events off the page, leaving readers to do the imaginative work of filling in the gaps. His mother encourages him to help an older married woman with her groceries.
The woman instigates a sexual relationship. What ensues is deeply uncomfortable, mostly because István is both attracted to and (somewhat) repulsed by the woman. The affair ends in a shocking act of violence.
István drifts though life like an unanchored boat in a storm, rarely stopping to internalize the consequences of his actions. He enlists in the Hungarian army, then tries manual labour in a winery before heading off to London in search of a better life. There, he is taken in by an older man who buys him a suit, teaches him how to blend with the upper class and gets him a job driving around billionaires.
One day he is driving around a wealthy woman, who questions him about his time in the army. István, determined not to say the wrong thing, replies, “It was okay.” She replies, “What do you mean okay? What does that actually mean? You are not actually saying anything, are you?” István is a very non-verbal protagonist.
In every situation, he says as little as possible. He doesn’t initiate, but is “acted upon,” a kind of passive existential wayfarer “waiting for something else to find him;” when he talks about his life “it feels strange, like he is talking about someone else’s life.” One almost gets the sense he doesn’t trust words to be capable of communicating anything at all.
Szalay has previously proven to be a master of minimalism, but here his prose is so economical that the words feel scraped to the bone. This is pure propulsive storytelling, with rarely an interior thought or description. In an interview, Szalay admits he is leaning into what he believes is the limited attention span of this generation.
During Elections Get campaign news, insight, analysis and commentary delivered to your inbox during Canada's 2025 election. Many writers leave the most significant events to happen off of the page. Szalay seems to delight in doing this, leaving large gaps for the reader to do the imaginative work of piecing together what happened between chapters.
The result is highly interactive reading and a story that feels significantly larger in scope than what is written. Szalay is trying to get to the heart of what makes men act in the way they do. Is violence a natural outcome of passivity? Does money or success actually lead to anything close to happiness? As the title suggests, this is a story about what happens when men completely submit to their physical selves.
Flesh may prove challenging for some, who may feel the writing is repetitive or perhaps even convince themselves Szalay’s economical prose means he has nothing to say. It’s a book that makes demands of its reader. If you’re willing to dig a little deeper, you may find yourself haunted, or taunted, by the question of whether we really have any control over our lives.
Greg Klassen is a Winnipeg writer. Flesh: A Novel By David Szalay McClelland & Stewart, 368 pages, $35 Advertisement Advertisement.
