Not ok? Booker winner Meat ignites debate over state of masculinity | Booker Prize

In the wake of David Salai’s book Flesh winning the Booker Prize, one feature of the novel stood out: the number of times the protagonist utters the word “okay.”

The 500 Times István shouts back is part of a sparse prose style in which the Hungarian Briton Szálai offers the reader a few insights into the inner workings of a man whose fortune rises and falls.

But despite Istvan’s indiscretion, the fact that a story about a working-class man from Eastern Europe won one of the world’s biggest literary prizes has sparked a debate about masculinity in literature in 2025.

GQ magazine appealed to readers not to turn the book into “discourse fodder.” But in a year in which the idea of ​​literary masculinity — and its apparent scarcity — has figured prominently, The Rise of the Flesh — a story about a taciturn, lustful, and sometimes violent man — was always going to spark controversy.

Szalay spoke of the “risky” nature of the novel, not only because of its style but because István as the protagonist displays toxic masculine behavior. “There is no longer a feeling that boys will be boys,” Szalay said after his victory. “So I expect the main character in Flesh will generate a lot of pushback.”

Istvan goes to a facility for young offenders due to an act of violence, then joins the army. He works security at the door of a strip club, before becoming a driver and security guard. “These are not tracks just for boys,” says novelist and Booker Prize jury member Chris Power. “But they are mostly male or traditionally male.”

This year, some wondered whether male novelists and male themes had gone out of style forever. In April, a new publishing house, Conduit Books, was founded with the aim of publishing literary novels and memoirs written by men amid a “perception that the male voice is a problem”, according to its founder Jude Cook.

The publishing landscape changed in response to the “toxic, male-dominated literary landscape of the 1980s, 1990s and 2000s,” Cook said.

Booker’s long list, which included six men and seven women, and Salai’s success, provide a strong response to this argument. But Fleisch’s win not only bucked an obvious trend in literature, it also seemed to connect directly to a live discussion about what it means to be a man in 2025.

Much of the coverage following the win placed the novel in the broader context of the “crisis of masculinity,” marked by the rise of influential figures like Andrew Tate and the debate opened by the Netflix teen drama.

“The idea that there’s a crisis of masculinity in the broader culture, like suicide rates or younger kids turning into the Andrew Tates of the world, almost clashes with the literature,” Bauer says.

“Perhaps it is easier, in an age of healthy debate about masculinity and male behavior, to endorse someone like David Salai who writes about men in a spirit of questioning and skepticism,” says critic and author Leo Robson.

A look at the other books shortlisted by men reveals some loose connections. The other novels on the list by male writers were loosely tied together by themes of “infidelity” and men “driven by lust,” both of which loom over the body, Power says.

Ben Markovits’ “The Rest of Our Lives” deals with a midlife crisis, Benjamin Wood’s “Seaswriter” deals with the “vulgar details of the daily life” of a shrimp fisherman, and Andrew Miller’s “The Land in Winter” begins with the suicide of a young man.

But Power sees Istvan primarily as someone struggling to cope with the status anxiety and precarious financial situation that many young people face.

“I think Istvan is struggling to control his life,” he says. “This speaks to a kind of universal feeling, something that is clearly felt very strongly by many.”

• Meat by David Salai (Vintage Publishing, £18.99). To support The Guardian, order your copy from guardianbookshop.com. Delivery fees may apply.