David Szalay wins the Booker prize for “Flesh”

“Flesh” is a deceptively complex work which finds original ways to explore masculinity, intimacy, class divides and power struggles.

Flesh. By David Szalay. Scribner; 368 pages; $28.99. Jonathan Cape; £18.99

David Szalay, who now lives in Vienna and was born in Montreal to a Canadian mother and Hungarian father.(AP)

IN 2011 THE Booker prize, Britain’s most prestigious literary award, made headlines long before the winner was announced. The judges stated that their criteria were “readability” and books that “zip along”, which drew criticism from high-minded reviewers of literary fiction. (Among the shortlisted books was “Snowdrops” by A.D. Miller, The Economist’s special correspondent.) This year’s winner, “Flesh” by target="_blank" class="backlink" data-vars-page-type="story" data-vars-link-type="Manual" data-vars-anchor-text="David Szalay">David Szalay, is eminently readable and zips along at a fast pace, largely as a result of the author’s pared-back prose. But the Hungarian-British writer’s sixth book is neither a breezy read nor a case of style over substance.

“Flesh” is a deceptively complex work which finds original ways to explore masculinity, intimacy, class divides and power struggles. When asked to sum up his book, Mr Szalay declared it was about “being a body in the world”. That body belongs to Istvan and his world is a place in which he is a passive participant, unable to speak his mind or articulate his desires.

The novel traces Istvan’s life trajectory, from a youthful sexual relationship with an older woman in his native Hungary to years of prosperity as a multimillionaire in Britain. As a soldier in Iraq, he suffers trauma; as a chauffeur in London, he rubs shoulders with the super-rich. Eventually he is forced to confront his passivity and make a moral choice.

The author was shortlisted for the prize in 2016 for “All That Man Is”, which charted nine stages in the lives of different men. Here Mr Szalay returns to that theme and takes a creative risk with his minimalist approach. “Flesh” features a protagonist who is deliberately not fleshed out. Istvan is never physically described. He is taciturn, his speech terse and borderline bland. A woman asks him about his stint in the army. “It was okay,” he replies. “What do you mean okay? What does that actually mean?” she responds. “When you say It was okay you’re not actually saying anything, are you?” It is up to the reader to fill in the gaps between what is said and what is withheld.

Mr Szalay accepted his award at a ceremony in London on November 10th. Along with winning a cash prize of £50,000 ($66,000) he can expect a considerable boost in sales. The judging panel—chaired by Roddy Doyle, an Irish novelist and previous Booker winner—praised the book as “a disquisition on the art of being alive and all the affliction that comes along with it”. The judges also found its propulsiveness a strength: “The emotional detachment of the main character, Istvan, is sustained by the tremendous movement of the plot. The pace of this novel speaks to one of the greater themes; the detachment of our bodies from our decisions.” Their decision, however, was a cerebral one. “Flesh” is a spare and strange, yet quietly captivating novel.