Beatrice longs for food: to taste the richness of butter and cream, the scent of spices, and the sweetness of sugar. She dreams of creating delicious meals for her friends and family to enjoy.

Reiko longs for security: the stability it provides and the wealth it offers her family.

Both are trapped and constrained by a dystopian society ruled by beauty, religion, and greed. A world where sex is far from taboo, and eating for pleasure is forbidden. Both must give up the lives they know to find the freedom they crave.

I don't know how to discuss this book, but I can tell you that Chana Porter can write. I cannot wait to read her backlist. I enjoyed both points of view throughout the book and how it all came together in the end, but I wish we had spent more time with Beatrice as I found her story more intriguing. I thought Porter did a good job telling the story she wanted without being soap boxy.

My overall issue with The Thick and the Lean is it is too long. I think it may have worked better as a novella.

I do think this book is best enjoyed by going in blind. I recommend if you like books with queer representation, books that are a little weird, and books that require a little work.

The Thick and the Lean will not be for everyone, especially for those that dislike the discussion of sexuality and sex scenes in books.

Thank you to NetGalley, Gallery Books, and Saga Press for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

The Thick and the Lean's cover initially caught my interest and the synopsis piqued my interest further. I thought it would be a dystopian take on Milk Fed or similar novels (e.g., Tender is the Flesh, Supper Club, or Nightbitch). I enjoyed the writing, world-building, character development, and discussion-opening ideas. But, something about the execution fell flat for me. I enjoyed the story but had trouble getting into the world and immersing myself in the story. I enjoyed the book and found the story compelling, but some unexplainable element was missing for me.

DNF @15%. some decent commentary about food/diet culture. some strange commentary about sex but an overall unserious tone that I was not geling with.

In a world where thinness is godliness, Beatrice struggles to assert her own identity and love of food, despite the pressures to conform to a hungerless lifestyle. Pills take away the craving for food and vitamins offer all of the nutrition a person needs, but Beatrice still wants to cook and eat, something so shameful in her cloistered community that it drives her out. In the City, Beatrice finds that most people are like her former community, depriving themselves of food while indulging in sex and other excesses. A thinly veiled satire of modern life, with cravings for depth and passion diverted into cheap thrills, The Thick and the Lean has a lot to say, but doesn't always hit the mark. The side story of Reiko, a con artist who scams her way to wealth while her fondness for food betrays her lowly origins, is less compelling than Beatrice's, and too many elements seem to serve only as direct comparisons for our world. Still an engaging read, but far from subtle and with less depth than it thinks it has.

My rating—5 of 5 stars

The Thick and the Lean is the story of two young women growing up in a dystopian society both familiar and unfamiliar. The land is flooding and social classes map onto elevation. A cult-like religion makes eating food taboo (while sexual exploration and promiscuity is notably encouraged), and is deeply intertwined with a predatory mega-corporation that seizes all assets of religious converts in exchange for a sheltered middle class life.

The stories of our two protagonists—Beatrice and Reiko—happen in parallel, though the two women only share one brief meeting throughout the book. Yet both offer compelling stories of social marginalization and various moments of assimilation and resistance. Beatrice, by virtue of her overwhelming craving and desire for the pleasures of food, and Reiko, because of her origins as a racial minority from the most impoverished slums. Both women yearn for more.

The Thick and the Lean is an incredibly compelling novel that engrosses readers in the inner lives of its narrators almost immediately. As someone who has struggled with body dysmorphia and disordered thinking about food and exercise, I found Beatrice especially relatable. That said, I think this book needs a major trigger warning for the hefty amount of content related to ED, diet, purging, and thinness. I found it a healing read, but recognize that those in different stages of active ED or recovery might have different experiences.

One more caveat is that this story is largely about the characters and the world—both beautifully and skillfully written. If you’re wanting for a more action or plot-driven read, this isn’t it.

A mash of some very strong and strange elements, Porter's vision of dystopia is one I am both fascinated and disturbed by. I think this book, like Tender is the Flesh, works well as something to build discussions with, but fails as a piece without discussion to hold it up. Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for an opportunity with the title.

When I requested the eARC of this book from NetGalley and publisher Saga Press, I was apprehensive. From the publicity pitch alone I was nervous this would be one of those white feminist books that purport to provide deeper commentary on social issues but lack an awareness of intersectionality. Then I learned a bit more about Chana Porter, particularly that they are a Lambda Award winner, and I was reassured. Indeed, The Thick and the Lean is

Beatrice was born and raised in the religious community of Seagate. In this world, the prevailing religion views consumption of food in a puritanical way similar to how some conservative branches of Christianity view sex (and sex is, as you might expect, much less policed). Seagate polices food consumption even more intensely than mainstream communities. But Beatrice loves food and discovers she loves to cook, and it isn’t long before she sets her eyes on leaving. Meanwhile, Reiko uses her hacking skills to move up from life in the Bastian to the Middle and eventually sets her eyes on Above. Both women are influenced by a contraband book, a set of stories purportedly written by a kitchen maid who becomes enamoured of a king, which includes illicit recipes. As the years go by, their covert desires shape who they become and the actions they take in a world that seems increasingly fractured and fraught.

Huge content warning of discussions of food/eating disorders, purging, etc.

It is, of course, no secret that women in our society are socialized to have a problematic relationship with food. On the one hand, we are typically expected to take on a great deal of the preparation of food. On the other hand, we are policed and shamed if our bodies don’t fit whatever ideal is popular at the time, which often means we’re encouraged to restrict our food intake. Porter exaggerates these mores into a literal religion in The Thick and the Lean. The complex ways in which Beatrice’s internalized shame around food intersect with her feelings about sex, her attraction to people, her attraction to her own body, etc., are fascinating and really got me thinking about my own relationship to food and eating. Again, this could likely trigger people, even if you don’t necessarily have a history with an out-and-out eating disorder, so practise self-care when reading.

Beyond the literal interpretation of food restriction, of course, there are so many layers here. Beatrice’s membership in a cult or a strict religious denomination, the exit costs of leaving, its effect on her relationship with her parents—there are many ways one could read one’s own experiences into this, whether one is queer, comes from a highly religious community/family, etc. Porter explores the pain of exile and separation (even when voluntary), found family, and more. The parallel paths of Beatrice and Reiko’s lives are fascinating. Both are entranced by this book that they each come to in different ways, yet for very different reasons: Beatrice latches on to the recipes and the freedom promised through cooking; Reiko is fascinated by the rebellious existence of the maid. They are, respectively, the eponymous thick and the lean: Beatrice literally thick from eating, rich with family and connections; Reiko thin, angular, and isolated despite being in a relationship with someone who thinks he loves her.

The story kicks into higher and higher gear, and Porter has her characters grapple with their responsibilities to revolution in each of their capacities. Beatrice, as a chef in a society that marginalizes food, is inherently revolutionary—yet how much is she willing to risk as more and more people protest her proclivity? Reiko has put so much of her energy into creating a sham of a life so real that she has practically become that person, and when she sees her facade in danger of cracking, she has to choose—will she give in, continue being complicit in the literal rising floodwaters that threaten people she grew up with, just because it means an easier life for her personally? Or will she find a way to act?

Reiko’s journey in particular is interesting because, unlike Beatrice, she is not always a likeable character (though I would argue she is usually still sympathetic). I really like how Porter illustrates that oppressed people are not always going to be heroes. Plenty of oppressed people collaborate, oppress others, lash out, or simply try to survive even if that means propping up the system that oppresses them. At the same time, as Porter demonstrates through Reiko, such people always still have the capability to surprise you. We contain multitudes.

I also adored the worldbuilding in this novel, the way that Porter hints at a whole history that we never truly explore. Is this set in a far future Earth (but it has two moons??)? A planet colonized by our distant descendants? Just a different world entirely? In the end the answers don’t matter—this is set dressing, there to help us understand the allegory that Porter wants to tell.

Then there is the story-within-the-story of the kitchen maid. Chapters interspersed between Beatrice and Reiko’s narratives tell us of what happens to the maid and her romance with a king. It’s sweet. It’s a fairy tale too—I think its happy ending is meant to contrast the uncertainty of Beatrice and Reiko’s fates. Stories get wrapped up neatly, whereas real life is seldom so obliging. Beatrice will continue to take leaps of faith, not knowing where she will land. Reiko must reckon with her divided loyalties, her heritage, her desire for a safety that can only ever be illusory.

When you get right down to it, The Thick and the Lean is about the price of happiness. What would you do? Would you leave behind your family and all that you know? Would you steal? Kill? Betray? What does happiness even look like in a society that is antagonistic to your very being? (Oof, that last question hit home for me.)

I’m really happy I picked up this novel. The title and description initially turned me off, yet the author and the first few chapters were enough to change my mind. I will read more of Chana Porter when I can.

I keep struggling with how to review this. The Thick and the Lean is the first I've read of Chana Porter's works and has definitely put her on my radar -- I'm now very excited to pick up The Seep soon. I can see this not working for many, but the themes of sex, queerness, and taboo worked so well for me here. I felt so wrapped up in these stories and connected so strongly with the characters. I just loved this book.

The Thick and the Lean by Chana Porter had an intriguing premise that initially sparked my interest in the book, but unfortunately, the execution fell short for me. The world-building and ideas in this alternate-world dystopia were underdeveloped. The disjointed and lengthy storytelling made it difficult to get into the book. We get a glimpse into this societies bizarre idea where food is scorned. Overall, The Thick and the Lean had an interesting concept, but something was missing in the delivery. This could have been a thought-provoking book. I wanted to like it more, but ultimately, 3/5 stars.

This novel takes place in a futuristic world where a town called Seagate houses devout believers that food is the devil. By abstaining from food, they are brought closer to god and closer to bodily perfection. But two women have decided to forge their paths and discover what freedom feels like as an outsider.

This book was so uniquely thought out and wonderfully executed. I enjoyed the futuristic aspects intertwined with current trends—especially the trendiness of food. As a society that pushes the envelope on diets and excess, it captures the corporate greed and the abundance surrounding us that we all take for granted.

This was not a quick and light read, but it was a fun story I highly recommend!

The publisher provided ARC via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

The premise of this dystopian novel had me intrigued from the start, but something about the execution didn't quite land with me. Normally, I enjoy novels told from alternating perspectives, but the way the characters' stories are approached in The Thick and the Lean felt disjointed and left me wanting more -- primarily more of Beatrice's story, as her journey is what kept me reading.

Beyond that, the novel is thoroughly descriptive when it comes to food, so much so that descriptors of the cooked meals made my mouth water. There is enough surface-level exploration and commentary on diet culture, sexuality, religious trauma, classism, racism, and genocide to prompt some interesting book club discussions, I think,

I was SUPER intrigued by the premise of this one, but unfortunately the execution fell a little flat for me. In this strange alternate-world dystopia, thinness is prized above almost all else; eating is taboo and rarely done outside of your most intimate circle, but sex is commonplace and publicly acceptable. The book follows two young women, making very different lives for themselves, linked by their reading of an ancient book, a memoir by a kitchen worker.

While this premise was absolutely fascinating, it felt like some of the ideas and worldbuilding here were a little half-baked, and the reality of the world raised some really interesting questions which the author totally breezed over – if bodily "perfection" is so prized, what's happens to disabled people in this society? (This is discussed SO briefly in an aside at the end, but there's a lot to dig into there.)

I did like that the world was totally queer-normative, and some of the details in the story were really delightful (and of course, an enormous number of wonderful descriptions of food!); but overall it wasn't thoroughly enough developed for me to really enjoy and get into. Thanks so much to Netgalley and the publisher for the ARC!

Thanks to Netgalley and Gallery books for the ARC of this!

This was such interesting speculative fiction about eating and bodies as morality taken to the extreme. I found myself very invested in the characters and where they would go. Most of all, I enjoyed the story of the kitchen girl. I’d recommend for anyone who likes feminist dystopians.

The sort of alternate world in this novel wasn't quite different enough from ours to be that intriguing. I was under the impression that it would swap some concepts, but really, although the world's history and peoples are entirely different, it just greatly increased both the body shaming and demand that women act as sexual objects that we've got, and took our existing capitalism to some terrible and logical conclusions. Gave the impression that women really just can't win, and is notable for making lots of foods sound absolutely incredible, and lots of sex sound absolutely awful.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC of this novel, releasing today!

I had read Porter's The Seep a couple of years ago, and while I didn't come away from it completely enamored I was really intrigued by her world design and concept, and so looked forward to reading her next novel. The Thick and the Lean takes place in a world where food is a social taboo similar to sex in our world. It's an interesting device to challenge the ways we think and talk about food and eating. There's also larger issues of class inequality and environmental collapse that are addressed in the story. We follow two protagonists simultaneously who briefly meet up towards the end of the book but otherwise remain on their own separate storylines.

I liked both Beatrice and Reiko (although some parts of Reiko's story that happen offscreen felt a bit muddled or unclear) and overall I liked the messaging of the book, although I did think it was a little longer than needed and sometimes seemed to be trying to say a bunch of different things of which only a few came through clearly. There's definitely a lot going on in this one. I did love the worldbuilding once again; Porter's imagination did not disappoint in this book either. Overall generally recommended if the description interests you!

This is one of the best books I've read in the last few years. I could see this as one of the best books of 2023 for upperlevel high school classes/college classes or bookclubs. The social commentary surrounding beauty, religious trauma, taboo, food, desire and capitalism reminds me of books like The Giver, A Brave New World, and The Jungle.

Porter does a great job not only holding space for her characters to grow into their own but even together through the medium of a both a cookbook and history book. The idea that history exists within cookbooks isn't novel, but it's incredibly important that the culture of food, cultural food, and history surround food is kept in mind as we explore societal, beauty, cultural, and political standards. Food is such an well-chosen vehicle to explore the social commentaries of beauty and capitalism because at the core it is both something we consume and can satisfy desires.

Because of the content that The Thick and the Lean explores, the book can be triggering for those with Eating Disorders, Body Dysmorphia, Religious Trauma, Familial Trauma, and Sexual Content.

Well-written and interesting commentaries but… more focused on racism/classism than queer; queerness present but not forefront; Claudia section confusing at first

It’s very hard for me to assign a rating to this book. The writing is excellent. The premise seemed interesting but I never had a compulsion to find out what was going to happen, perhaps because for a large part of the book the larger societal actions are very far in the background and there isn’t a focus on what might happen to the characters in regards to that society. I didn’t connect with the characters and didn’t care what happened, yet the writing is such that I wasn’t bored.

Couldn't finish this one. The writing is good, just the story was too much for me. Too much starvation/food talk, too much making fat the "other", too much culty religious stuff.

This unusual dystopian tale twines the lives of Beatrice, who grows up in a cult that worships starvation, Reiko who drops out of school and becomes a grifter of sorts, and Ijo who wrote an autobiography centuries before. Chapters of Ijo's book are included but Ijo remained somewhat of a mystery to me (more Ijo would have been appreciated). Food looms large here- it's almost a fetish, especially in Beatrice's world where it's shameful, I would have liked more world building but the characters were well done. There are many themes here and readers will no doubt find some of them more subtle than others. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. Interesting read.