Booker Prize Finalist Hungarian descent, living in Britain, David Szalay, whose All That Man Is, was shortlisted for the 2016 Booker Prize,  now brings Flesh, where 15-year-old István in Hungary, isolated after moving to a new town. His only friend sets him up to lose his virginity, only find himself too awkward with the girl, and both of them then reject him.  Shy and new in town, he is a stranger to the social rituals practiced by his classmates and soon become isolated. Under duress, he begins to help his middle-aged married woman neighbour carry her shopping: she is sexual predator who seems to recognise something in him she can exploit. She manoeuvres him into sex that “exists in the same way as his fantasies exist, as something he’s just imagining”. He is still a child who is not equipped to deal with this sudden immersion into the adult world. When he tell her he loves her she withdraws and the relationship reaches a tragic conclusion that sets the course of his life. István emigrate from Hungry to London, where he moves from job to job before finding  steady work as driver for London’s billionaire class. At each juncture, his life is affected by the goodwill or self-interest of strangers. István is a calm, detached observer of his own life, and through is eyes  we experience a tragic twist on an immigrant story brightened by moments of sensitivity, softness and Szalay’s keen observation. Flesh reveals István’s life through intimate movements, with lovers, employers, and family members, charted over the course of decades.  The tension between what is seen and unseen, what can and cannot be said, hurtles forward until finally with everything at stake  sudden tragedy again throws life as István knows it in jeopardy. Flesh  traces the imperceptible but indelible contours of unresolved trauma and its aftermath amid the precarity and violence of an ever-globalizing Europe with incisive insight, unyielding pathos, and startling humanity, taking him first to a young offender’s institution before he enrols in the army, displays bravery in Iraq and comes back traumatised after watching his friend die in front of him.

Sex is as mysterious in its presence as in its absence across the novel. Szalay shows us a man described by others as possessing  “a primitive form of masculinity”, which we apprehend in his reticence of speech, instinctual courage allied to physical strength, and his love of sport and challenge.

These practical qualities, and his innate submissiveness, enable his rise, He is just scraping by in London, working on the doors at a strip club, when he rescues a man from danger, This leads to a security detail for a wealthy family in Chelsea, Here he is seduced again ibn a way that leads to a much greater rise and corresponding fall.

When disaster comes, István’s losses are unbearable, and the emotional reserve we have become used to leads us to powerfully imagine his depths of heartbroken sorrow.

We come to care so much for this apparently impassive man, who travels far but remains still the awkward teenager whose agency is imperilled by the mysterious demands of the flesh.  He is definitely not the type who pursues satisfaction by manipulating others, his hungers define his life by making him passive to other people’s propositions. His experiences an epiphany when he sees his son’s shame at being caught with porn: the moment in adolescence when a boy becomes alienated from the surprising new things his body wanted, how it makes sense to talk about it as if it was something separate from yourself even while you seem more powerless than ever to deny it what it wants. Szalay is more optimistic about men’s capacity for goodness while being similarly committed to presenting what is undoubtedly unpalatable about us.

Flesh By David Szalay, Jonathan Cape £18.99/ Scribber $28, 368 pages.