Flesh by David Szalay, longlisted for the Booker Prize 2025, is a deeply moving and unsettling novel about trauma, masculinity, and alienation. The story follows István, a boy from Hungary whose life changes forever after an inappropriate relationship with an older woman. What begins as a tale of teenage isolation soon unfolds into a decades-long journey marked by secrecy, survival, and emotional detachment.
In Flesh, David Szalay presents István’s quiet yet turbulent life, where chance events and the choices of others shape his path more than his own actions. From his troubled teenage years in Hungary to his rise in London among the super-rich, István remains a passive observer of his own life. The novel captures the weight of unresolved trauma and how it shadows a person through adulthood, making this one of Szalay’s most powerful explorations of modern masculinity.
What makes Flesh striking is not only its story but also its style. Szalay writes with minimalist precision, often using fragmented dialogue and detached narration that mirrors István’s own passivity. This approach may feel frustrating at times, but it effectively immerses readers in the emptiness and alienation that define the protagonist’s existence. The book demands patience but rewards with a haunting portrayal of how trauma shapes identity and how silence can weigh heavier than words.
Through spare but impactful prose, Flesh traces István’s experiences across continents and decades, exposing the silence, pain, and emptiness that define his journey. It is not only a story of one man’s struggles but also a sharp reflection on alienation in contemporary Europe. With its raw honesty and emotional depth, this Booker Prize nominated novel invites readers to confront difficult truths about power, vulnerability, and the human condition.
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Availability and Book Details
Flesh by David Szalay was published on 6 March 2025 by Jonathan Cape, part of Penguin Random House, and is available in English with a total of 352 pages in its hardcover edition. Readers can choose from different formats depending on preference: the Kindle edition (₹709), the paperback edition (₹746), or the hardcover edition (₹1,039). The book is widely available online and can be purchased from platforms such as Amazon, Penguin Random House, and other major online bookstores, making it easy for readers everywhere to access.
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About the Author: David Szalay
David Szalay (born 1974, Montreal, Canada) is an acclaimed English novelist whose works have earned him a reputation as one of the most insightful voices in contemporary fiction. Though born in Canada, he moved to the United Kingdom as a child, later studying at Oxford University. He has also written radio dramas for the BBC and continues to explore varied forms of storytelling.
Szalay made his literary debut with London and the South-East (2008), which won both the Betty Trask Award and the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize. His subsequent novels include Innocent (2009), Spring (2011), and the highly celebrated All That Man Is (2016), which won the Gordon Burn Prize and the Plimpton Prize for Fiction, as well as being shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize. In 2018, his novel Turbulence won the prestigious Edge Hill Prize. His latest work, Flesh (2025), continues his exploration of human vulnerability and modern identity.
Named one of The Telegraph’s Top 20 British Writers Under 40 and featured in Granta’s 2013 list of the Best of Young British Novelists, Szalay’s fiction has been translated into more than twenty languages. He has lived in London, Budapest, and now resides in Vienna.
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Thematic Analysis: Flesh by David Szalay
- Trauma and Its Lifelong Shadows: Flesh begins with István’s teenage trauma and a disturbing relationship with his married neighbour that leaves permanent scars. What might have been dismissed as a passing encounter instead becomes the defining wound of his life. This early betrayal robs him of agency and plants in him a silence he cannot escape. Szalay does not dramatize the moment with exaggerated emotions; instead, he shows how trauma seeps quietly, shaping decisions, relationships, and even the way István inhabits his body. As the novel unfolds, we see how he carries the weight of this violation into adulthood, colouring every experience. His passivity, his tendency to accept rather than resist, stems from this formative act of powerlessness. Flesh by David Szalay demonstrates how some traumas do not heal but instead become embedded in flesh and memory, determining the course of a life. The novel’s raw honesty forces readers to confront how early experiences often echo forever.
- Masculinity Without Heroism: Unlike many novels centred on male protagonists, Flesh avoids heroic tropes. István is not a conqueror, leader, or rebel but he is passive, withdrawn, and shaped by forces beyond his control. His silence and emotional numbness make him an unlikely central figure, yet this is precisely the point. Through him, the novel challenges stereotypes of masculinity. Instead of strength, we find fragility; instead of dominance, resignation; instead of purpose, drift. István’s “okay,” his most frequent word, becomes a quiet symbol of how men often suppress vulnerability under the guise of acceptance. Szalay suggests that modern masculinity may be less about action and more about silence and the inability to articulate pain, trauma, or desire. By stripping away, the glamour of male power, Flesh by David Szalay reveals a more unsettling portrait of manhood: one defined not by outward achievement, but by inner emptiness and the refusal or inability to speak.
- Alienation and Detachment: Alienation defines István’s life in Flesh by David Szalay. From adolescence onward, he is emotionally detached, both from others and from himself. His muted response often just “okay” reflects a man who has withdrawn from genuine connection. This detachment is not only a symptom of trauma but also a lens through which the novel explores modern existence. Many readers may find his silence frustrating, but that frustration is intentional. It mirrors the experience of being shut out, of never truly reaching someone you love or want to understand. In this way, István becomes a haunting representation of alienation in contemporary life. Even when he is surrounded by people, wealth, or intimacy, he remains curiously absent, watching life pass by without ever fully inhabiting it. Flesh forces us to sit with this discomfort, reminding us that alienation is often less dramatic than we imagine and it is a slow erosion of self.
- The Body as a Silent Language: One of the most striking aspects of Flesh is its focus on the body as a form of communication. István rarely expresses his desires or fears with words, yet his body tells a different story. Through sudden acts of violence, sex, or physical withdrawal, we see emotions he cannot voice. His life demonstrates how deeply experiences are carried in the flesh, even when the mind denies them. Sexual encounters, sometimes awkward or painful, reveal truths about intimacy and shame. His military service further emphasises the body’s vulnerability of explosions, injuries, and exhaustion all leave marks words cannot capture. In many ways, the novel suggests that flesh is memory: it records trauma, desire, and survival long after the conscious mind has forgotten. By highlighting the primacy of the body, Flesh by David Szalay forces us to confront how physical experience often says more about who we are than the stories we tell.
- War and the Search for Meaning: War plays a pivotal role in Flesh by David Szalay, offering István one of the few periods when he feels truly alive. Serving during the “war on terror,” he is immersed in chaos, fear, and the proximity of death. These moments bring a fleeting intensity missing from his otherwise numb life. Paradoxically, war provides him with temporary meaning, yet also deepens his trauma. For a man who drifts passively through existence, the immediacy of combat forces him into the present of every sound, every explosion, every heartbeat becomes a reminder of life. But once the war ends, the emptiness returns, now accompanied by invisible scars. Szalay does not present war as redemptive; instead, he shows its brutal paradox. It awakens István for a moment but leaves him more detached afterward. Flesh reveals that destructive experiences can offer clarity, yet that clarity often fades, leaving behind only damage and silence.
- Class and Social Mobility: In Flesh, István’s journey takes him from poverty in Hungary to the lavish world of London’s elite. At first glance, this might seem like a story of upward mobility. Yet his rise is accidental rather than ambitious. He becomes a driver, an assistant, and a servant to wealth and close enough to witness privilege but never truly part of it. This accidental ascent highlights the emptiness of material success when unaccompanied by emotional growth. Money, status, and proximity to power do not change István’s alienation; if anything, they intensify it. The glitter of luxury only contrasts more sharply with his inner void. Szalay critiques the illusion that wealth equals fulfillment, showing instead how class divides remain psychological as well as financial. Flesh by David Szalay exposes how social mobility without agency feels hollow, reminding us that climbing society’s ladder means little if the soul remains untouched.
- Minimalist Style and Sparse Dialogue: One of the defining features of Flesh by David Szalay is its minimalist style. The sentences are short, the descriptions pared down, and dialogue reduced to clipped exchanges. At times, this can feel deliberately flat, mirroring István’s withdrawn personality. His reliance on “okay” in conversation becomes more than a quirk; it embodies his inability to engage with others meaningfully. This stylistic choice may challenge readers who expect emotional outpouring, but it is precisely what gives the novel its haunting atmosphere. The sparse prose reflects the emptiness of István’s inner world and the difficulty of expressing trauma. Silence becomes part of the narrative structure, forcing readers to look between the lines for significance. By stripping language to its bare minimum, Flesh creates a literary experience where the absence of words communicates more powerfully than the words themselves. It is a bold technique that makes silence not just thematic but structural.
- Sexuality and Secrecy: Sexuality in Flesh is never simple, romantic, or straightforward. From his teenage years, István’s experiences are marked by secrecy, imbalance, and shame. The novel portrays desire as messy and often unsettling, shaped by power dynamics and silences rather than mutual expression. Sexual encounters reveal vulnerability, yet they rarely bring intimacy. Instead, they often deepen István’s sense of isolation, reinforcing the scars of his youth. Szalay refuses to idealise intimacy, instead presenting it as raw, awkward, and fleshly so the body expressing what cannot be spoken. These depictions highlight how secrecy distorts relationships, trapping people in cycles of guilt and silence. Yet, paradoxically, these very moments of physical intimacy are when István feels most alive, as if shame is the only intensity he knows. The novel suggests that intimacy without openness becomes another form of imprisonment, a cycle where desire both connects and isolates. In Flesh, flesh itself carries the weight of secrecy, showing how bodies remember what words cannot. By making sexuality central yet troubled, Szalay explores how desire can simultaneously connect and divide, expose and conceal. It insists that sex is never just physical and it carries the weight of history, trauma, and identity, leaving the body to speak when words fail.
- Fate and Powerlessness: At its heart, Flesh by David Szalay explores whether people shape their destinies or simply surrender to circumstance. István drifts from one stage of life to the next and youth detention, war, service to the wealthy with little evidence of choice. His favourite word, “okay,” captures his resignation. This sense of powerlessness is not portrayed as dramatic tragedy but as quiet inevitability. Fate in the novel is ordinary, relentless, and inescapable. Readers are left wondering whether István’s resignation is wisdom or an acknowledgment of life’s indifference or whether it is the product of damage and apathy. By showing how events unfold around him rather than through him, Szalay presents a character whose passivity becomes a way of life. Flesh challenges us to reflect on our own agency: do we shape our paths, or do we simply say “okay” as life carries us along?
- Silence as a Form of Expression: In Flesh by David Szalay, silence emerges as one of the most powerful forms of communication. István rarely articulates his emotions, but his refusal to speak conveys volumes. His silence reflects trauma, resignation, and sometimes even quiet defiance. For readers, this lack of verbal expression is both unsettling and compelling, forcing us to engage with what remains unsaid. The novel highlights how silence functions as both shield and prison. It protects István from exposure yet isolates him from true connection. Relationships in his life are marked as much by absence as by presence, with meaning conveyed in pauses, gestures, or unspoken truths. By making silence central, Szalay asks us to reconsider how much of human life happens outside words. Flesh shows that silence is not emptiness but a language of its own, heavy with the weight of what cannot or will not be expressed.
- Europe’s Social and Political Backdrop: Though deeply personal, Flesh by David Szalay also situates István’s life against the shifting social and political currents of Europe. From his childhood in post-communist Hungary to his immersion in London’s billionaire class, his story reflects larger themes of globalization, inequality, and dislocation. The novel references war, migration, and the transformations of the European Union, not as abstract politics but as lived realities shaping ordinary lives. István becomes a vehicle to explore how individuals are swept along by history and fighting wars they did not choose, working in systems they barely understand, inhabiting cities that never feel like home. By weaving personal alienation into a broader context, Szalay reveals how trauma and displacement are not just private but collective experiences. Flesh by David Szalay is thus more than a character study; it is a subtle critique of Europe’s social scene, exposing how the political and personal remain inseparably intertwined.
- A Story Without Resolution: Unlike traditional novels that build toward transformation or redemption, Flesh by David Szalay denies closure. István does not emerge wiser, stronger, or more fulfilled. Instead, he ends as he began: passive, silent, and emotionally distant. This lack of resolution is deliberately unsettling, forcing readers to grapple with the messiness of real life. By refusing to provide a neat ending, Szalay captures the ambiguity of existence where not every wound heals, not every story resolves, and not every character changes. The power of Flesh lies in this refusal to comfort. Instead of closure, it offers haunting questions: Can a life without resolution still matter? Is passivity itself a kind of truth? By leaving István unchanged, the novel becomes a mirror for readers, reflecting the ways in which many of us drift through life without dramatic conclusions. Its ambiguity is what makes it unforgettable.
Why You Should Read Flesh by David Szalay
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At its core, Flesh by David Szalay is less about plot than about the weight of existence itself. István’s life unfolds as a sequence of events shaped by trauma, war, class, and desire, yet he never actively seeks purpose. He accepts circumstances as they come, drifting through history’s currents without resistance or ambition. This passivity creates a portrait of emptiness and not peace, but absence: of connection, of meaning, of desire. The novel suggests that when life is lived without reflection, it risks becoming something merely endured rather than truly experienced.
Yet paradoxically, in exposing this void, Flesh finds its power. By showing us a man adrift, the novel compels readers to confront their own search for meaning. The haunting question it leaves is not only whether István’s life is tragic, but whether our own lives risk the same quiet emptiness. In this way, Flesh becomes more than a story and it is a stark meditation on what it means to be human at all.
Flesh by David Szalay is not a novel of sweeping plots or heroic transformations. Instead, it is a study of silence, alienation, and the weight of existence itself. Written in minimalist prose, its clipped sentences and sparse dialogue perfectly mirror István’s emotional detachment. At times frustrating, even absurd, this style is deliberate and it forces readers to engage with emptiness, to search for meaning where little is offered. In doing so, the book recreates the unsettling experience of living inside a life defined more by drift than by choice.
You should read Flesh if you value literature that challenges rather than comforts. It offers no easy answers, no redemptive arcs, but instead confronts us with haunting questions about trauma, masculinity, desire, and the search for purpose. The novel’s power lies in its refusal to resolve, compelling readers to reflect on their own lives. Sparse yet profound, Flesh is a demanding but unforgettable meditation on what it means to exist at all.
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A Critical Reflection on Flesh
Dialogue-heavy and terse, Flesh by David Szalay grips the reader with minimalist exchanges that mirror István’s emptiness. He doesn’t evolve in the traditional sense; he simply ages, lurching from one transgression to another without learning from his mistakes. His choices, often rooted in lust or chance, define the trajectory of his life. From affairs with married women to clashes with his stepson, István embodies the figure of a man who drifts rather than acts, a passive life-lurker rather than a doer.
This portrayal may sound bleak, and indeed it is, but Szalay renders an oppressive existence strangely vibrant. The spartan, almost clinical prose intensifies the melancholy atmosphere, while moments of dark humour expose the absurdity of human connection. István is no glamorous hero; he is undeveloped, taciturn, and primeval, masking weakness with silence. Yet this very ordinariness makes him compelling. The novel becomes less about redemption and more about exposing the quiet truth of a life lived through the desires of the flesh and choices that ripple outward with consequence but little insight.
- Style & Form: Critics consistently commend Szalay’s minimalist, spare prose and a stylistic choice that mirrors the emotional blankness of the protagonist and forces readers to feel the unsaid.
- Themes of Masculinity & Alienation: The reviews identify masculinity not as a source of strength, but as a site of failure, embarrassment, and alienation which is pivotal to Szalay’s narrative vision.
- Emotional Impact: Despite emotional reticence, Flesh moves readers through nuanced, haunting intimacy and each understated moment evokes silence loud enough to echo.
Final Thoughts
Flesh is not a comfortable read, but it is an unforgettable one. Through István’s life, the novel shows how trauma, silence, and passivity can shape a person in ways that success or wealth cannot undo. Its sparse style, unsettling themes, and refusal to offer easy answers make it a challenging book, yet that is also where its power lies. Readers who want a story of resilience, masculinity, alienation, and the quiet weight of history will find Flesh deeply moving. This is a novel that lingers long after the last page, reminding us that the struggles we avoid facing can define us just as much as the choices we make.
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