David Szalay’s Flesh: A Provocative Examination of Masculinity in Literature
In the wake of David Szalay’s Flesh winning the Booker Prize, readers have been intrigued by one distinctive feature of the novel: the frequency with which the protagonist, István, utters the word “OK.” In fact, this character expresses himself an astounding 500 times with that single, understated proclamation. This choice underscores Szalay’s sparse prose style, which leaves readers to navigate the turbulent inner world of a man whose life is a complex tapestry of highs and lows.
A Rethinking of Masculinity
Though István is characterized by his inarticulateness, the very fact that Flesh—a narrative about a working-class man from Eastern Europe—has captured one of literature’s highest accolades has ignited discussions about masculinity in contemporary literature. As critics engage with Szalay’s work, it’s becoming apparent that Flesh brings forth a raw, nuanced portrayal of masculinity at a time when such representations are often criticized or deemed problematic.
GQ has encouraged readers to avoid simplifying Flesh into mere “discourse fodder,” yet in a cultural climate where discussions around masculinity have intensified, the emergence of a story focused on a taciturn, lustful, and at times violent man ensures Flesh will be central to ongoing debates.
Risks and Reactions
Szalay has identified the inherent risks in creating a protagonist like István, who typifies toxic male behavior. His actions lead him into a young offender facility, enlist him in the army, and ultimately land him in various traditionally male-dominated occupations, such as security at a strip club and nightclub door work. Szalay remarked on the shifting perceptions of masculinity, stating, “There’s no longer that sense that boys will be boys,” anticipating that István’s character would be met with significant disapproval.
The narrative’s violent undercurrents and its exploration of male behavior do not exist in a vacuum. They resonate with broader themes emerging in literature today, as critics like Chris Power highlight that while István’s experiences are not inherently exclusive to men, they predominantly align with traditional male paths.
The Male Voice and Its Cultural Context
In the wake of Szalay’s triumph, questions have arisen around whether traditional male narratives are losing favor in a literary landscape often critiqued for its past “toxic” representations of masculinity—especially those dominant in the literary scenes of the ’80s, ’90s, and early ’00s. An initiative like the new Conduit Books imprint aims to champion male writers amid assertions that the male voice is becoming increasingly problematic. Its founder, Jude Cook, notes that this shift is a response to the prevailing dialogue on gender dynamics and masculine identity in literature.
Interestingly, the 2025 Booker longlist reflected a balance of gender representation, with six male authors competing alongside seven female authors. Szalay’s win has provided a pivotal counterargument to claims that male-centric themes are out of step with contemporary literature.
A Crisis of Masculinity
In more culturally relevant discussions, much of the discourse surrounding Flesh has intersected with what’s being termed the “crisis of masculinity.” This crisis is underscored by contemporary phenomena, such as influencers like Andrew Tate, who appeal to young men with a distilled version of masculinity that is often criticized for being toxic. Power emphasizes how these wider cultural circumstances collide with literary explorations of male identity, presenting a complex picture of how literature can reflect and critique current societal trends.
According to literary critic Leo Robson, the present era, marked by a healthy debate about male behavior and identity, has made it easier to champion authors like Szalay who seek to explore these themes with a critical eye.
Common Threads Among Male Narratives
A look at other works shortlisted for the Booker Prize reveals overlapping themes among male authors. The narratives explore ideas of infidelity, lust, and status anxiety—elements that are also pivotal in Flesh. For instance, Ben Markovits’ The Rest of Our Lives tackles the turmoil of a mid-life crisis, while Andrew Wood’s Seascraper delves into the mundane realities of everyday life. Such thematic echoes suggest a collective grappling with male identity and its implications.
Power notes that at the core of István’s character is a struggle with status anxiety and financial precarity, sentiments that resonate deeply in today’s economically strained environment. “I think István is struggling to gain control of his life,” he argues, a struggle that mirrors the experiences of many in contemporary society.
David Szalay’s Flesh not only adds a compelling voice to the literary canon but also serves as a springboard for broader discussions around masculinity, identity, and societal expectations. While the novel’s sparse language may seem minimalist, its implications resonate deeply in today’s cultural dialogues.












