God this book just absolutely broken me. It was exquisitely written, following a man from the age of 15 where he begins an act that changes the course of the rest of his life. Each chapter jumps ahead a few years in time and we follow up him until he is well into late adulthood.

Reading a book just about a man growing up seems boring but the things that happen in this are so distressing and sad, I was completely hooked and couldn’t tear myself away. It’s such a compelling read with characters that come to life and are very easy to her emotionally attached to.

I highly recommend this, it’s a perfect example of literary fiction that takes the ordinary and makes it fascinating and horrifying to read about. It left me so sad at the end but what a journey.

At first, I wasn’t sure if I could connect with such a quiet, emotionally distant character, but Flesh surprised me. It’s a stark, slow-burn novel that quietly gets under your skin.
We follow István, a boy growing up in post-Soviet Hungary, through military service, migration to London to a surprising entry into London’s elite society. He’s passive and often hard to like and clearly not a hero in any traditional sense but I still cared about him.
The writing is sparse there’s minimal, stilted dialogue and short scenes to capture a whole life in a fairly short novel, but it works.
It’s not an easy read, but it’s compelling in its own strange way. If you like introspective, character-led novels that deal with trauma, masculinity and the meaning of existence (with the occasional unexpected turn), this one’s worth a go.
Many thanks to NetGalley for the ARC.

David Szalay was shortlisted for The Booker Prize for his 2016 novel, 'All That Man Is.' 9 years later, he returns with another possible contender with his new novel, 'Flesh.' It's a bildungsroman of the Hungarian Istvan as he grows up, moves to London, and returns to his home country. Yet we do not always understand or know Istvan because he has difficulty articulating his desires. This is not a negative; instead, it's an examination of a character and the people he meets who are adrift in the world. They are trying to make sense of themselves in an increasingly fragmented and incomprehensible world.

Szalay's prose is stark and spare; he does not get in the way of his character as so many authors have the tendency to do. As a result, we grow to care about Istvan and the pain and frustration he endures. I would not be surprised to see this longlisted for the Booker Prize in 2025.

I found this a compulsive read, in that I had to know what was going to become of Istvan. The writing, simple and yet graphic at times, had a rhythm that really did make me keep turning the pages. Did I enjoy the book? How did I feel about Istvan? I find it quite difficult to say. At times I found it deeply sad and then it would be unsettling and then I’d feel almost removed.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for a copy in exchange for a review.

David Szalay’s Flesh draws you in, in a way that seems contradictory to the cool, detached writing style. The story of István takes us from his youth in Hungary, to London and back again. Some major events of his life- weddings, deaths, violence, war- happen off stage and we learn about them only after the fact. This is weirdly effective, and plummets you into the minutiae of whichever stage of his life comes after. István is rarely in touch with his emotions, but his adolescent experiences may be responsible for this and for a certain passivity in his personality. His stepson, Thomas, describes him as having a primitive masculinity that he is surprised his mother is attracted to. There is element of truth to this, but it is not the whole story. The novel is very compelling despite an underlying sadness and an atmosphere of loneliness. .

I found Flesh by David Szalay unputdownable. There is a stark, almost emotionless quality to the narrative, but that only made the suspense of what happened even more compelling. My favourite book of the year so far.

This is an affecting story about Istvan’s life and the twists and turns in his fortunes, taking him from his modest family home in Hungary to England and then back again. There is a sense that much of what happens to Istvan is beyond his control and the simplicity in the (almost matter of fact) narration somehow adds to the feeling that our protagonist represents so many people of his background and class. Masculine to a fault, we learn very little about Istvan’s emotional life at first, so it took me a while to get into the book. However, once I did, I was hooked and moved by it. Thought-provoking, intelligent, and highly recommended.

In many ways, Szalay's charting of a single man's life from his youth in Hungary to adulthood in London with multiple digressions and tales in between is a kind of companion piece to his exceptional 2016 Booker-shortlisted novel-in-stories All That Man Is. By focusing on one character, however, the sense of dislocation is heightened. Not always an easy read, but as ever with Szalay's an enlightening and rewarding one.

I found this a mixed experience. I loved the direct style of writing but did at times find it a challenging read and difficult to gain a connection with the main character.

However the story gripped me and it was a fascinating read following Istvan story as he travels from Hungary to London.

Flesh is an effective and often deeply moving novel, charting the uneasy trajectory of a man whose life is shaped by desire, power, and the quiet, accumulating weight of past decisions. Szalay’s prose is spare, often to great effect, lending the story a stark, unflinching quality. At its best, it feels precise and controlled, cutting straight to the bone. At its worst, though, the writing can verge on flatness, its emotional restraint teetering towards detachment.

There’s no denying the novel’s power, but it can be a bit of a bleak ride. István’s journey, from lonely adolescent to a man shaped (and perhaps hollowed out) by ambition and circumstance, is compelling but heavy, the kind of narrative that lingers like a dull ache. Still, Szalay has a sharp eye for the way people negotiate love and power, and Flesh delivers a poignant, quietly devastating meditation on what it means to have - and to lose - control over one’s own life.

Flesh is a novel that is difficult to review. I found myself totally sucked into it, without actually really enjoying it very much. It's an account of a life lived, with mixed fortunes and much heartbreak.

Written in stark, detached, plain prose, with very simple, pared-back dialogue, the overarching message that I got from the book was that the protagonist Istvan, groomed as a 15 year old boy by his neighbour, a 40 year old woman, never emotionally matured beyond that point. One might describe it as the opposite of a Bildungsroman, because the protagonist never really comes of age but merely passively accepts what life has to throw at him.

The book opens with teenage Istvan in his native Hungary encountering the older woman and becoming involved in a sexual relationship with her. From there, Istvan joins the army and then eventually moves to London, where he almost unwittingly enters the realm of the billionaire class.

For me, Flesh doesn't have the same level of pathos of Stoner by John Williams (which I loved), and it has far more graphic sex in it, but it did remind me of Stoner in that cold, detached view of a life that actually contained multitudes, as indeed all do. Would I recommend it? Sort of. If it sounds like your thing. Certainly thought-provoking and more clever than might appear on a superficial reading. 3.5/5 stars

*Many thanks to Vintage Books for the arc via Netgalley. As always, this is an honest review.

This is the story of Istvan, from Hungarian teenager to middle-aged man. Told in a series of spare episodic stories, we travel through Istvan’s life with him and see his almost naive nature become resigned and detached. The writing is outstanding and actually very moving. Highly recommended.

In Flesh, David Szalay presents a propulsive, hypnotic tale about István, a man whose life is shaped by forces beyond his control. From his isolated teenage years in Hungary, where he forms a complicated and clandestine relationship with a married neighbour, to his adult life as a driver for London’s elite, István’s journey is marked by a series of encounters that spiral his existence in unpredictable directions.

Szalay masterfully crafts István’s story with a detached emotional distance, allowing readers to observe his life in a way that feels as though we are watching from the outside. This emotional reserve makes István a unique and intriguing character—his quiet presence allows the reader to explore the tensions between what is seen and unseen, what can and cannot be said. As we learn more about him over time, the narrative grows more empathetic, and his story evolves into one of tragedy, self-reflection, and the struggle to make sense of the unpredictable turns of life.

The book is fast-paced, yet it is rooted in intimate moments of human connection—moments with lovers, family members, and employers—that allow us to witness the emotional undercurrents of his world. Szalay's sharp prose explores unresolved trauma, the fleeting nature of success, and the harsh realities of a globalised Europe. With a writing style that doesn’t hold the reader’s hand, Flesh offers a raw and immersive experience, keeping us engaged with its compelling character and unpredictable plot.

Read more at The Secret Book Review.

Firstly I want to say thank you to the author and the publisher for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

After having finished the novel I feel shell shocked. It feels like an out of body experience and not in the best way.

Szalay's prose is sparse and unyielding, incredibly simplistic but hard hitting. He leaves you to fill in the blanks and what isn't said is just as brutal as what is. From the first chapter it hits you like a ton of bricks and you're left feeling incredibly uncomfortable and unsettled.

After I read the first chapter I felt as numb and as detached as the main character, István, sounded. It really set the tone for the rest of the book. I honestly couldn't forget that or look past it. This book definitely should've come with trigger warnings because I wouldn't have requested it had I known.

The main character is consistent all throughout the book which isn't exciting at all and it don't think it had its intended effect on me. He came off as really dry. He didn't change at all or anything. No development, no redemption, healing, or anything. I'm pretty sure 1/3 of the dialogue is just 'It's okay', a real lack of substance. And the dialogue would span pages and pages and would be really empty too.

The rest of the book kind of mellows out and I'll be honest the constant dialogue and the bland main character gets tiring 100 pages in. I feel like the first 30 pages had me speechless and whilst reading through the rest of the book I was still processing that.

I think empty is probably the best way to describe this book. The characters feels empty, the dialogue feels empty, I feel empty after having finished it, but it was impactful at the same time.

Flesh tells the story of István, each chapter of the book representing one in his life. In this way, David Szalay saves a lot of exposition: the reader soon cottons on to a change of location and a jump in time. We first meet István when he’s fifteen, having moved to a new town in Hungary with his mother who makes him help their neighbour with her shopping. A drink becomes a meal becomes a kiss becomes István’s first experience of sex. The neighbour leads him gently and with tenderness but emotional equivocation is beyond a fifteen-year-old and he reacts badly when she ends it.
We next meet István a few years later as a young man in need of direction, then as a soldier returning from Iraq – a compelling description of the effects of being at war and the disconnect on returning home. We follow him as he moves to London and encounters an entirely different stratum of society after a chance encounter; yet again we see that actions have consequences. Flesh explores life in Europe in the past few decades and the effects of trauma, as well as love, money and politics, all through the eyes of István; he’ll stay with you for a while.

Flesh by David Szalay is a free-flowing story starting with a fifteen year old boy who becomes a man and follows many episodes of his life and his relationships.

Istvan at fifteen has few friends; his mother offers his services to a neighbour to help with her shopping. In later life Istvan finds himself living in a house share in the suburbs of London working security at a club. Istvan's fortunes improve following a chance encounter.

Szalay writing seems effortless as the narrative unfolds with each new chapter of Istvan's life.

Flesh is an impressive work that I really enjoyed reading.

A strange but compelling book. The story of Istvan and how he just appears to drift through life. To begin with I could not decide if he was autistic, depressed or just a drifter, still not sure. He is not the most likeable of characters but the author does not try to make him so. I liked the direct form of the writing but dod I like the book ...still not sure.

I finished this more than a week ago and totally forgot to write something about it, so here I go.
'Flesh' is a tragic and often sad but fascinating novel about growing up and becoming an adult, coming from poverty and ending up extremely rich. Szalay uses short and direct sentences, which work really well and propel you forward and I read this pretty fast. I wouldn't say I 'enjoyed' reading this book, but I was wat least very much invested in it.
Thank you Jonathan Cape and Netgalley UK for the ARC.

I read the third chapter of this as a standalone story in the New Yorker, and liked it, though the very flat, choppy dialogue and descriptions aren’t my usual go-to. The ending of the story version is quietly melancholy, and in the book, those effects are compounded, so by the end of the novel Flesh (a very weird title, there’s nothing either lushly decadent or body-horror-esque here) I found myself quietly sad. In an interview, Szalay said he wanted to write a story about being on the receiving end of events without controlling them—about passivity—and also about emotional numbness, which strikes me as a very masculine way of talking about or engaging with passivity. On a technical level, he’s quite right, it’s easier to do that sort of thing via what he calls “cumulative suggestion”, so we get vignettes of István’s life between the ages of about fifteen and sixty, in all of which things happen to him but he never seems to be making the decisions, he never seems to be an agent in his own life, even when they’re really serious things happening: an accident that causes a neighbour’s death, a move to Britain, an affair with his employer’s wife. I don’t dislike what Szalay is trying to do here; there are very few literary authors who take seriously the inner lives of inarticulate men, and Flesh has probably given me a better framework for understanding things about the world that I don’t naturally get (like inarticulacy and passivity as character traits) than many a literary novel of recent years. It is, however, just inescapably sad, because living passively means having to cope with a lot of things, and there’s a sense of low-level despair attached to that coping. It’s a very skillful novel. I’m still not sure that it has a particularly strong reason for existing, apart from as an experiment in achieving those effects Szalay discusses in the interview, but it hasn’t put me off reading more of him.

I absolutely flew through this read. The book starts off on a dark theme and I was completely hooked from the first few pages. István is welcomed into the world of manhood in a troubling way, and we follow the repercussions this has on his life.

I’m not sure if the writing will be everyone’s cup of tea. Some of the dialogue is very short and to the point but I think this is cleverly done in that it perfectly suits István’s personality. I’m amazed by the authors ability to create such a tense and complex storyline from such a (to put it bluntly) boring character. There’s hardly any dialogue from István within Flesh but I still felt like I walked through his emotions and could feel the pain he was experiencing.

The author doesn’t show empathy for István and I enjoyed, as the reader, having my own opinion on how I felt about his life. I’m not sure if I liked or disliked the main character, i was in a constant battle of wanting to give him a kick up the arse, infuriated by the way he benefited from the people he randomly came across but then also feeling sorry for him knowing how his younger life started. Which I think speaks volumes for the authors writing 👏🏼

I personally found Flesh a thoroughly enjoyable read that I didn’t want to put down. It made me reflect on how our life can crumble at any given moment and how things can come full circle.