Ian Mond's Reviews > Pink Slime

Eco horror at its most fucked up/disturbing/unsettling. Pick your poison. All apply. Living in a Port City, our unnamed narrator is a nanny for a boy with a syndrome where he can’t regulate his appetite — he is always hungry. Around them, the world is going to shit. Toxic algae has killed all the fish, and exposure to a “red wind” leads to a flesh-flensing illness. Though going outdoors is a gamble, our narrator, when not caring for her ward, visits her mother squatting in the rich part of town and her chronically ill husband bound to the local hospital. Pink Slime brings back memories of lockdown, the isolation, the fear of going outside, and the disconnection from those we love. It’s not a particularly gory book, but there’s a visceral intimacy to the prose that’s genuinely unsettling. The narrator’s relationship with the young boy is complex. There’s love, but there’s also a sense of revulsion, especially when she fails to stop the boy from over-eating. I grant that this novel won’t be for everyone. The breakdown of society, the human body, and the environment is not escapist fare. I, however, thought it was terrific. Hard to read. Hard to put down. (Also, kudos to Heather Cleary for her excellent translation).