Tender Is the Flesh discussion

I'm starting this thread over my confusion of the main character in this book, Marcos. He doesn't really read as a developed to me, just kind of bland imho. His character motivation is pretty contrived, among other things like not much character traits. But I'm not sure if I'm missing something? While I was reading the book, I wrote down some notes to see what I can gather about his character through my own interpretation, or why exactly I didn't like him, because I hate the idea of just saying that I don't like his character without much reason.
"I think Marcos is a selfish man who, instead of atoning for the sins he commits daily in his appalling line of work, as it seems infeasible, he seeks any means of distractions from it. The only thing that I find interesting about Marcos is how his job seemed to drain him of understanding the prospects of compassion, sympathy or even defiance, only understanding that emotions like these are idiotic, and feels as though this is a fact that some can never understand."
To be honest, I can't help but think that Marco's personality traits are only reactions to this dystopia he lives in, which is what I also felt about Guy from Fahrenheit 451 imo. He's pretty much just a funnel for the social commentary for the book, which is a little disappointing. But idk, I'm curious what anyone else feels about this character.

Maybe you can tell me something that you found interesting about him that I couldn't.

That being said, I'm enjoying the book so far. I really like the writing choices here as I feel the author put careful intent to some descriptions that make the social commentary rich.

TL;DR: I don't know how to feel about the main character in Tender is the Flesh, to the point where I'm not very invested in his character arc. If anyone else has a different opinion, please feel free to share.

I came here to just say I feel the same way. I felt like I was confused from the beginning. He seemed distant, reserved and disconnected from the reality of the world. I think you really will gather your real opinion on him by the end of the book.

Yeah, I thought about not DNF’ing this book for that reason, along with how much I like the writing. I’m glad I wasn’t alone in this haha

So my reading of his character was that he is very much forcing himself to dissociate from his job. Like in the beginning it mentions him washing away memories, he only does his job to get money for his dads health care, he wants to confront the world and people he is around but forces himself to be quiet and just move on. This combined with the very mechanical, blunt, and almost apathetic style of writing created a character who may not like the world he is in but he’s forcing himself to do well and ignore the blatant and severe issues that he sees going on around him.

But that’s just how I read it.

Wow that’s actually a great interpretation.

Jack wrote: "So my reading of his character was that he is very much forcing himself to dissociate from his job. Like in the beginning it mentions him washing away memories, he only does his job to get money fo..."

I read him the same way, to me it seemed that once upon a time he was actually probably a great guy, good morals.. until the world got jacked up, his baby dies and his father is following in suit. this all combined broke him. when we start reading him, he is already broken with not much left of his original self.

Marcos isn’t merely “unlikeable”; he’s a study in self-anaesthetised nihilism. From the first chapter he drifts through a world that has normalised cannibalism with the same glassy detachment the narrative eventually elicits in us. The more he handles living “head” stock, the less he reacts—exactly the psychic numbing the book inflicts on the reader.

Why we struggle to invest in him:
1. Shared desensitisation
Marcos processes horror as routine paperwork; after a hundred pages, so do we. His flat affect echoes our own dulled response, turning him into an uncomfortable reflection.
2. Moral disengagement on display
He parrots the industry’s euphemisms—“special meat,” “processing plant”—while insisting he’s still “different.” We recognise the mental gymnastics because we’re performing them too just to keep reading.
3. Nihilism that invites self-projection
Marcos believes nothing can change, so he stops trying. When we spot that seed of resignation in ourselves—Would I really resist if this were normal?—our empathy curdles into dislike.
4. The “worst elements” effect
Fiction usually offers either admiration or condemnation; here it offers a mirror. Seeing our own capacity for passive complicity makes Marcos hard to enjoy, yet impossible to dismiss.

By the end, our distaste for him is tangled with self-reproach: we don’t just dislike Marcos—we dislike recognising how easily we could become him.