Tender Is the Flesh

“He thinks that Señor Urami needs to reaffirm reality through words, as though words created and maintain the world in which he lives.”

Tejo comes to feel that the world inhabited by such businesspeople as Señor Urami is constructed not by labor or machinery but through words. In other words, the perception of a distinction between the people who work in the tannery and the human subjects who are raised and killed for their meat and skin was non-existent until language was used to invent it. Moreover, to keep the illusion alive and convincing, a constant stream of suitable language is required.

“From the corner of his mouth, the orange sauce slowly falls and begins to drip onto his white sneakers.”

As Tejo and Egmont tour the breeding center, Egmont accepts a barbecue sandwich containing meat taken from a child. Here, Bazterrica draws attention to the sauce that drips from his mouth as he eats. This image not only produces squirms of discomfort but also conveys in vivid, sensory detail the way that those who eat such meat are figuratively stained by association.

“His father is a person of integrity, that’s why he went crazy.”

The mental decline of Tejo’s father coincides with the widespread normalization of cannibalism, and Tejo sees this as no mere coincidence. By some measures, judgments about mental health simply involve adherence to a given social norm. In this case, Tejo’s father remained constant in his views as society changed around him, such that he was judged unstable once the Transition was complete. Implicit in Tejo’s characterization of his father as a man of integrity is an admission that he himself is not since he did not have the same trouble adjusting.

“After what happened with the baby, Cecilia’s words became black holes, they began to disappear into themselves.”

Here, Bazterrica considers the potential for language to shape reality in a more personal context than that of corporate cannibalism. Specifically, Cecilia’s language following Leo’s death is compared to a black hole, where gravity is strong enough to pull everything in, even light. The metaphor hints at the draining, recursive nature of her language as well as her mental state, with everything reminding her of the devastating loss of her child. Meanwhile, this quote’s euphemistic way of referring to the baby’s death shows that Tejo continues to grapple with grief himself.

“The word remains, the word that speaks to the implacable truth behind a beautiful building. ‘SLAUGHTERHOUSE,’ because there, slaughter took place.”

Here, Tejo recalls a slaughterhouse that was accurately labeled as such, unlike the large nameless buildings that house Krieg. In so doing, he recalls a time when language more accurately reflected the truth. His comment also highlights a subtle distinction; sometimes words are used to cover up the truth, but in other cases, the absence of words meets that purpose.

“Once he asked him why he worked as a stunner. Sergio answered that it was either the head or his family. Whenever he felt remorse he thought of his children and how the work enabled him to give them a better life.”

Tejo’s friend Sergio stuns humans just before they are slaughtered. Sergio’s explanation of his rationale for carrying out such violent work centers on the needs of his family. This illustrates the way that within a capitalist system, some workers accept the necessity of performing undesirable or even objectionable work in order to make the money they need to provide for themselves and their loved ones. Sergio’s situation mirrors Tejo’s, who provides for his elderly father.

“One can get used to almost anything, except the death of a child.”

Here, Tejo reflects on the way that horrendous acts are normalized within the confines of the meat processing facility as part of the daily routine. He adds the caveat, however, that at least in his experience, a child’s death is not so easily brushed aside. He is thinking of the death of his own son, though notably, his coworkers cooking a child doesn’t elicit the same reaction, even if it makes him uncomfortable. This imbalance of perspective that prioritizes one’s own loved ones over the welfare of others allows the predatory system of capitalistic cannibalism to continue.

“After that came more injections, pills, low-quality eggs, […] the question ‘when’s the first child coming along?’ repeated ad nauseum, […] more debt, other people’s babies, the babies of those who could, fluid retention, mood swings, conversations about the possibility of adopting, phone calls to the bank, children’s birthday parties they wanted to escape, more hormones, chronic fatigue, […] the pregnancy, the birth, the euphoria, the happiness, the death.”

This passage is quoted from a longer paragraph that consists of a long list of factors involved in Tejo and Cecilia’s experience as parents seeking to conceive a child. Stylistically, the long list of items piles up one after another, creating a sense of the overwhelming, long-lasting experience, including the all-too-brief happiness that gives way to despair.

“Ever since animals were eliminated, there’s been a silence that nobody hears, and yet it’s there, always, resounding throughout the city.”

Tejo feels the absence of animals keenly, even in a city that is full of people. Whether as pets or part of the natural landscape, animals created noise and therefore become conspicuous in their absence, at least for someone like Tejo, who remembers them well. The fact that Tejo planned to become a veterinarian at one point suggests that his affection for animals runs particularly deep.

“He looks at his niece and nephew as though he were savoring the taste of them. It startles them and they lower their eyes.”

Over lunch, Tejo’s niece and nephew play an amusing, popular game of imagining how other people would taste. For a brief moment, Tejo takes that game one step further, hungrily imagining their taste. This illustrates an inevitable outcome of a world where cannibalism is normalized: Despite all efforts to create an artificial, linguistic distinction between people and those who are raised as livestock, the mere possibility of cannibalism changes the way people see each other.

“He looks at the fangs, the hunger, the fury. They’re beautiful, he thinks. He doesn’t want to hurt them.”

As he retreats to his car after playing with puppies at the zoo, Tejo notices and describes the adult dogs pursuing him in these terms. To Tejo, there is no contradiction between considering the dogs beautiful and recognizing the danger they pose to him. In fact, these animals are, in many ways, just as savage and cruel as the human characters whom Tejo finds reprehensible. The difference seems to be that these animals act on self-preservation, whereas humans are violent and destructive by choice and for pleasure.

“The calm and orderly pace of the slaughter is disrupted whenever the lunatics from the church stop by the plant.”

Tejo describes work at the meat plant as grounded in routine, not passion. In fact, any strong feelings about the work they do are best avoided since they can lead, in cases such as Ency’s, to disruptive behavior. For this reason, Tejo seeks employees who repress their feelings rather than those who, like the shorter applicant, are excited by violence. More broadly, the implication is that mere indifference is enough to keep the corrupt socioeconomic system running.

“At times, it seems like she’s thinking, like she really can.”

As Tejo gets to know Jasmine, his opinion of her rises. As a human raised as livestock, she occupies a space somewhere between pet, companion, and lover to Tejo. Tejo’s tone of surprise at her capabilities indicates the extent to which he others her and thinks of himself as superior, mistakenly attributing the intellectual differences between them to nature rather than environmental factors.

“There’s a vibration, a subtle and fragile heat, that makes a living being particularly delicious. You’re extracting life by the mouthful. It’s the pleasure of knowing that because of your intent, your actions, this being has ceased to exist. It’s the feeling of a complex and precious organism expiring little by little, and also becoming part of you.”

Here, Urlet explains to Tejo the pleasure that he derives from eating living flesh. Given his unsavory characterization, Urlet’s comments undercut his point, highlighting the consumption of meat as an abhorrent, unethical practice. Although Urlet’s views may appear deviant and extreme, they also represent a candid truth about eating meat, which is that all meat consumption depends on the death of another organism.

“But that’s what’s incredible, that we accept our excesses, that we normalize them, that we embrace our primitive essence.”

Here, Urlet expresses a cynical view of human nature as exhibiting progression toward raw, base instincts. His words summarize Tejo’s character development, as he struggles between ennobling and degrading instincts until he finally, selfishly, kills Jasmine after she gives birth to his child. As the individuals that make up a society follow similar trajectories, the progress of society as a whole is shaped in the aggregate.

“He looks at Urlet and knows that the entity, whatever it is that’s in there, scratching at the man’s skin from the inside, wants to howl and slice through the air with a sharp, cutting wail.”

Tejo senses a presence of some kind hidden just beneath Urlet’s suave, sophisticated façade. Here, he describes this presence in animalistic terms. Together with other sections characterizing Urlet as a kind of primitive being, this passage highlights the raw, aggressive nature that potentially lies dormant in every person, waiting to be woken under the right conditions.

“The man’s hand doesn’t grasp his; it’s limp, lifeless, so that he has to make an effort to shake it, to support the hand that’s like an amorphous mass, a dead fish.”

When a young, idealistic inspector visits Tejo to check on the female FGP, only to be turned away by a call from his superior, he immediately begins to suspect Tejo of breaking regulations. As he leaves, his handshake, described here, is one of the signs that betrays the inspector’s disdain. The awkwardness of this moment illustrates the way that laws and regulations, even misguided ones, shape perspectives about what is right and wrong and sustain the flawed system.

“Everyone says that he fell because he flew too close to the sun, […] but he flew, do you see what I mean, Son? He was able to fly. It doesn’t matter if you fall, if you were a bird for even just a few seconds.”

Here, Tejo recalls his father’s explanation of the image of Icarus in the aviary at the zoo. Icarus is a figure from Greek mythology whose father, Daedalus, builds him wings made of wax but warns him not to fly too close to the sun. Icarus ignores his advice and the wings melt, leading him to plummet to his death. Armando’s comments can be interpreted on several levels. First, they pertain to Armando himself since his life fell apart following the death of his wife and the onset of dementia. Second, they can be seen as a commentary on the state of human civilization, which prospered for a period before regressing into a barbaric state. Third, they can be seen as counsel that inspires Tejo to live a little more bravely, even at the risk of falling.

“There are no stars in the sky. The night is pitch-black. He doesn’t see any fireflies either. It’s as if the whole world has been turned off and gone silent.”

Returning home after scattering his father’s ashes, Tejo is depressed and exhausted. This passage illustrates Bazterrica’s use of description and setting to establish tone—in this case, a tone of bleakness. The absence of stars, which are sometimes associated with wishing or hope, suggests Tejo’s despair. The silence, meanwhile, points to his loneliness.

“He realizes that the men are him, repeated infinitely. All of them have their mouths open and are naked. Though he knows they’re saying something, the silence is complete.”

While dreaming, Tejo encounters countless versions of himself, described here. The dissociation and replication of himself might suggest that Tejo is an “everyman,” that the world is populated by people like him; it may also symbolize his sense of fate, as every conceivable version of himself is trapped in the same pose. The combination of open mouths and silence might be taken as an indication that whatever language these men are using, it is empty and essentially meaningless.

“Nullify, he thinks, another word that silences the horror.”

As Tejo follows Dr. Valka through her laboratory, he notices that she uses the word “nullify” rather than “kill” when referring to the subjects of her research studies. The two words have strikingly different connotations, with the former conveying a neutralizing action while the latter indicates a violent act. In selecting such dry language, Dr. Valka seeks to absolve herself of any responsibility, which angers Tejo, who longs for some kind of justice to strike Dr. Valka.

“If I say later it means now, especially if it’s something this important. I’m paying you to think. Now leave.”

Dr. Valka scolds one of her employees for obeying one of her earlier commands, not realizing that Dr. Valka meant the opposite of what she said. Dr. Valka’s demeaning treatment of her employees shows that her disregard for the research subjects she purchases from Krieg is not an isolated phenomenon. Rather, her disregard for people in general enables her to carry out her experiments without remorse.

“Can’t you see you’re incapable of thinking for yourself? The only thing you do is follow the norms imposed on you. Can’t you see that this whole thing is a superficial act? Are you even capable of feeling something, really feeling it? I mean, have you ever cared about Dad?”

In an angry outburst, Tejo tells Marisa how he sees her. In so doing, he attempts to rouse her from some kind of ignorance, but she gives little indication of taking his words to heart. Although Tejo claims the moral high ground of feeling deeply and acting for himself, his later actions call this into question. Since he kills Jasmine, perhaps his whole relationship with her is just as superficial as the things he accuses Marisa of doing.