David Szalay’s Booker-winning novel Flesh is a brutal read; not in terms of the narrative – though it has its moments! – but in terms of its style: short staccato punchy and repetitive sentences which seem to strip the language down to its bare bones and remove any kind of lyricism at all. I can see why – in its difference – it would have appealed to the Booker judges.
There are passages later in the book – whole paragraphs indeed! – which one might regard as more conventionally descriptive or lyrical, passages where Szalay is more inside the main character’s head than describing the interaction between the characters.
The punchy stuff certainly draws you in (if it doesn’t repel you) and so you might find yourself motoring through the book. However – and there’s always a ‘but’ – I found the style too easy to read, I was almost able to skip over some lines assuming they would be irrelevant; and the excessive number of times characters say “Okay” made me want to reach in and punch them on the nose! That may be an accurate representation of how some people speak, but it doesn’t make for great literature.
I wouldn’t put you off reading it – I’ve read other novels by Szalay and enjoyed them – but a Booker winner? I’m not so sure.
Ian Gouge - Writer 