In the murky wake of the financial crisis a string of establishments pop up across Europe catering to a hedonistic underground, its clientele beholden to a strange, hallucinatory meat. Stoked by the fleshy and charismatic Hugo and fuelled by voracious consumption of ecstasy, the craze spreads from the heart of Europe all the way to the Mediterranean, where in Athens the financial elite begin to turn on each other. Murder, barbecue and apocalyptic raving ensues, culminating in the most savage party Mykonos has ever seen. Follow the story to its destructive end, where consumption eats itself alive.
Ultan Banan started writing as a way of getting his head straight, discovering in the process that staying busy is the only way to stop oneself going insane. He devotes what time he can to writing, doing his best to avoid gainful employment by increasingly creative means. He lives on the move but dreams of a small cottage on a foul and inhospitable coast somewhere. Currently in Scotland.
Horrific, dark and unsettling. I had to put this book down halfway through before continuing on. Ultan is one of the best writers I’ve had the pleasure of turning pages by. Don’t read “Meat” if you enjoy the sunny innocent world you currently sleep in. I can’t wait for the next one. I’d write a better, longer review but lockdown has a pillow over my face and it’s knee in my chest.
The book starts out very strong and in general is well written, but the last few chapters were rushed and poorly thought out. I was able to suspend my disbelief all the way up to after the incident with the IMF banker, but after that I was shaking my head as both the story and the quality of the writing took a sudden, sharp nosedive. Not to mention the self-indulgent nonsense that is the epilogue.
Ultan is obviously a talented writer, I would have loved to see what he could have done with this story with another couple of chapters to flesh out a more gradual and believable ending.