Scan barcode
A review by stephen_arvidson
Under the Skin by Michel Faber
5.0
**WARNING: This review contains spoilers**
Under the Skin is a scintillatingly creepy roman that, well, gets under your skin. Set in northern Scotland, the narrative traces an extraterrestrial being, Isserley, who, manifesting in human form after excruciating surgery, cruises the Scottish countryside picking up unwary male hitchhikers. Under the direction of a rich corporation based on her native planet, Isserley anesthetizes the more well-proportioned earthling hitchhikers with a fast-acting curare-type drug. Transported to an inconspicuous abattoir near Inverness, the victims are handed off to Isserley's male counterparts to be mutilated, fattened, and reduced to human meat, or "vodsel," which is a delicacy on her world.
Author Michael Faber is clearly an accomplished wordsmith, for his writing is both provocative and mesmeric, his prose lean and elegiac. Faber expertly tempers his language, beginning from basic plot elements and gradually refining them, patiently introducing key concepts, depicting the fantastic and horrifyingly bizarre in chaste, nonchalant fashion. Alienation and the amorality of battery farming are just some of the austere themes explored in this inventive tale, so readers will have a difficult time pigeonholing this book into a particular genre; the book features elements of science fiction, horror, and psychological suspense, all of which are blended with a markedly literary sensitivity.
Isserley's otherworldly character so closely reflects that of a human, emotionally speaking, that it's easy for readers to forget her alien origins. Even in spite of Isserley's disturbing machinations—and the literal fact that her race has no concept of 'mercy'—the author remains endearingly true to her plight; he confuses readers' sympathies by humanizing this anti-heroine and showing how, under the skin, she's no different from you or me. Wrought with physical pain from the surgery and her feminine isolation amongst the otherwise all-male extraterrestrial workforce, Isserley evokes myriad emotions in the reader, from frustration to fondness. As the story progresses, her insularity and solipsistic detachment becomes digestible when the reader is made aware of the bizarre circumstances surrounding her condition; at which point her motives, her feelings, and her agony have made her more human than even she realizes.
As previously mentioned, some very heavy themes are explored in this novel—humanity, sexual identity, mercy, animal welfare, even factory farming. After eventually revealing the truth of Isserley's identity, the author proceeds to explore the nature of her in-between identity and the ethics of her role with the interplanetary conglomerate. Isserley’s motivations and attitude are progressively affected by her relationship with Almis Vess, her disfigurement, the beauty of Earth, and the deplorable treatment of vodsel. I especially like that moment near the end of the book in which she captures her final victim, but feels guilty for doing so, realizing that his beloved dog has been left trapped in his van. She goes out of her way to free the animal from the hitchhiker's van. Her ethical dilemma is thought-provoking without being didactic.
Under this Skin is unlike any book you’ve ever read, and you'll be astounded by the time you reach the journey's end. Pointedly peculiar, unearthly unique, and sublimely written, this is one story you won't soon forget. A review on the book’s backcover describes Under the Skin as "Swiftian"—to which I concur; the story definitely lives up to the adjective.
Under the Skin is a scintillatingly creepy roman that, well, gets under your skin. Set in northern Scotland, the narrative traces an extraterrestrial being, Isserley, who, manifesting in human form after excruciating surgery, cruises the Scottish countryside picking up unwary male hitchhikers. Under the direction of a rich corporation based on her native planet, Isserley anesthetizes the more well-proportioned earthling hitchhikers with a fast-acting curare-type drug. Transported to an inconspicuous abattoir near Inverness, the victims are handed off to Isserley's male counterparts to be mutilated, fattened, and reduced to human meat, or "vodsel," which is a delicacy on her world.
Author Michael Faber is clearly an accomplished wordsmith, for his writing is both provocative and mesmeric, his prose lean and elegiac. Faber expertly tempers his language, beginning from basic plot elements and gradually refining them, patiently introducing key concepts, depicting the fantastic and horrifyingly bizarre in chaste, nonchalant fashion. Alienation and the amorality of battery farming are just some of the austere themes explored in this inventive tale, so readers will have a difficult time pigeonholing this book into a particular genre; the book features elements of science fiction, horror, and psychological suspense, all of which are blended with a markedly literary sensitivity.
Isserley's otherworldly character so closely reflects that of a human, emotionally speaking, that it's easy for readers to forget her alien origins. Even in spite of Isserley's disturbing machinations—and the literal fact that her race has no concept of 'mercy'—the author remains endearingly true to her plight; he confuses readers' sympathies by humanizing this anti-heroine and showing how, under the skin, she's no different from you or me. Wrought with physical pain from the surgery and her feminine isolation amongst the otherwise all-male extraterrestrial workforce, Isserley evokes myriad emotions in the reader, from frustration to fondness. As the story progresses, her insularity and solipsistic detachment becomes digestible when the reader is made aware of the bizarre circumstances surrounding her condition; at which point her motives, her feelings, and her agony have made her more human than even she realizes.
As previously mentioned, some very heavy themes are explored in this novel—humanity, sexual identity, mercy, animal welfare, even factory farming. After eventually revealing the truth of Isserley's identity, the author proceeds to explore the nature of her in-between identity and the ethics of her role with the interplanetary conglomerate. Isserley’s motivations and attitude are progressively affected by her relationship with Almis Vess, her disfigurement, the beauty of Earth, and the deplorable treatment of vodsel. I especially like that moment near the end of the book in which she captures her final victim, but feels guilty for doing so, realizing that his beloved dog has been left trapped in his van. She goes out of her way to free the animal from the hitchhiker's van. Her ethical dilemma is thought-provoking without being didactic.
Under this Skin is unlike any book you’ve ever read, and you'll be astounded by the time you reach the journey's end. Pointedly peculiar, unearthly unique, and sublimely written, this is one story you won't soon forget. A review on the book’s backcover describes Under the Skin as "Swiftian"—to which I concur; the story definitely lives up to the adjective.