Tender Is the Flesh is set in a disturbing world where cannibalism has been legalized. The way the “heads” are laid out, the breeding labs, and the removal of limbs and vocal cords all serve as a metaphor for how factory farming could be viewed today, with humans as substitutes. It shows how human bodies are optimized for profit. Those details made me question my own thoughts about factory farming and how easily cruelty becomes normalized when it’s hidden behind process and language.
As the book progresses, we empathize with Marcos, who works at a processing plant and is constantly questioning the world around him. He clearly dislikes how people devalue the heads. Eventually, he begins to care for one—Jasmine. We see Marcos struggle with his baby, who died, his wife, who has left him, and his father, who is going insane. He starts using Jasmine as a substitute for the emotional connection he craves as he disconnects further from the world. He eventually impregnates her.
What really made me like the book was the ending. The twist completely reframes everything you thought about Marcos. It turns out he’s no different from the rest of the world he judged—just a man pretending to be above it until it suited him not to be.
Marcos brings in his wife because, when Jasmine is giving birth, he needs her help delivering the baby. Once it’s complete, the baby becomes theirs. When Jasmine struggles to reach for her newborn, Marcos disposes of her, showing he never really cared about her. It’s implied that Marcos and his wife now have a new baby, something they couldn’t have naturally. Jasmine was simply a means to get what they wanted, and Marcos quickly killed her once she became too “human.”
In the end, the empathy that had been built up around Marcos and his questioning of the world completely evaporates. He’s just as big a hypocrite as anyone else, and it’s clear he never truly cared for Jasmine—he always saw her as lower than himself.