dom

I don't know how to rate this book, but I spent the second half of the book crying, wiping tears from my eyes as I turned to the next page.

The love they all felt for that child was so beautifully transferred onto paper, I could feel it in my bones, the aching of love.

Sometimes a book is just okay.

There was subtle commentary on racism and the concept of "race" in general, but I think I would have enjoyed further exploration into themes of that and colonisation (briefly touched on with the character of Urlet) which feel only lightly explored within the narrative.

Don't listen to people on reddit though, this book is much better than the mess which is D'Lacey's 'Meat'. 'Tender is the Flesh' is a much more convincing and realistic narrative than the superhuman powers of vegetarianism that 'Meat' presents. 'Tender is the Flesh' dually has a much greater ideological depth and narrative than D'Lacey's self-aggrandising and shallow narrative on the horrors of the contemporary meat industry.

Novel that feels like being blown about by hot California winds. Meandering nihilism with a want to see the worst.

As I sit at my desk, 10:22am, several hours since I finished this book in the morning - a specific passage continues to rattle in my mind

she'd never know the joy of breastfeeding or whatever, the fact that breastfeeding was not really a joy or fun at all, it ached and by the end she gave up but regardless she still should have to know the pain of it, you couldn't just veto out of womanhood because you didn't like the smell of it you little c-nt the world is not a place you make the world is a place you are made by, [209]

Trite and boring. There wasn't anything about this book I liked and had to skip around 20 pages to get myself to at least read the ending.