Under the Skin

Isserley picks up hitchhikers with big muscles. She, herself, is tiny—like a kid peering up over the steering wheel. She has a remarkable face and wears the thickest corrective lenses anyone has ever seen. Her posture is suggestive of some spinal problem. Her breasts are perfect; perhaps implants. She is strangely erotic yet somehow grotesque, vulnerable yet threatening. Her hitchhikers are a mixed bunch of men—trailer trash and travelling postgrads, thugs and philosophers. But Isserley is only interested in whether they have families and whether they have muscles. Then, it's only a question of how long she can endure her pain—physical and spiritual—and their conversation. Michel Faber's work has been described as a combination of Roald Dahl and Franz Kafka, as Somerset Maugham shacking up with Ian McEwan. At once humane and horrifying, Under the Skin takes us on a heart-thumping ride through dangerous territory—our own moral instincts and the boundaries of compassion. Short-listed for the Whitbread Award, this remarkable book defies categorisation. Under the Skin introduces Isserley, a woman obsessed with picking up male hitchhikers – so long as they're well-muscled and alone. But why? As the novel unfolds and the reason becomes clear, the reader is drawn inexorably into a completely unexpected and increasingly terrifying world. The novel centres around a female character, Isserly, who seems to be obsessed with picking up male hitch-hikers, as long as they are muscular and fit. As the story unfolds, the reader comes to realise that Isserly's motives are rather unusual. A brilliantly told and beautifully written novel that defies categorisation, Under the Skin introduces Isserley, a woman obsessed with picking up male hitchhikers - so long as they're well-muscled and alone. ISSERLEY ALWAYS DROVE straight past a hitch-hiker when she first saw him, to give herself time to size him up.