Cannibalistic Cravings: 5 Gourmet Thrillers with ‘Unique’ Taste
There is something fascinating about cannibalism. So taboo, so repulsive, so against human nature. It’s often depicted as a sin for the deranged, for weird outliers and the clinically insane. It’s interesting to me that something which once for many tribes signified honour, ritualism, and sacrifice, has been twisted into something dark and demented, modern in its scandal. Perhaps the first to break the mould in a big way for entertainment was Hannibal. A calm, collected, intelligent predator with a severe superiority complex. Not so far from the character in my own novel, Greedy. Hazeline is a social recluse in rural Japan, and she is part of the uber-wealthy. Her wayward taste palette stems from the ability to do what she wants, when she wants, largely unchecked, combined with the twisted but honest belief that what she is doing is an act of kindness and charity. She is a wild combination of upper-class intellect and inflated, ungoverned self-importance. I have never had so much fun writing a character.
During research for my novel, I had the pleasure of diving into the world of cannibals in literature, and these are the five books which really stood out to me.
The Lamb by Lucy Rose is a gorgeous blend of contemporary horror and classic folklore. Set in the UK, it explores a strange family comprised of two toxic women and their bizarre, unsocialised daughter, and dissects themes of motherhood, childhood trauma and imposed belief systems, all under the gorgeous guise of the grotesque.
One of my favourite authors, Sayaka Murata, wrote Earthlings, which I went into blind and unknowing. It pushes the boundaries of realism in a horrifying way as the story follows an unbearably lonely girl unable to fit into the world around her. Eventually she flees and tries to create her own little world, and with it, explores what it means to be human.
Discover the Book
Ed accepts the job. He hasnʼt earned any Michelin stars, but he knows his way around a kitchen. Leaving his life in Tokyo behind, he departs for an opulent estate in the mountains owned by the enigmatic and reclusive Hazeline Yamamoto, a disgraced socialite with a predatorʼs smile and an exacting palate. Hazelineʼs world is one of taste, connoisseurship, and experimentation–she is a certified gourmand. But when you can afford filet mignon for every meal, you begin to seek out the strange and forbidden.
The closer Ed gets to Hazeline and the brighter future that she promises–if he remains loyal–the nearer he is to realizing the chilling truth about her altruism. In this shadow world of unimaginable wealth, there are worse monsters than two-bit gangsters. The wind blowing through Hazeline’s home carries the sound of screaming, and Ed finds himself feeding all kinds of beasts.
