A Certain Hunger is about a cannibalistic food critic—why can’t I stop reading?

I don’t usually go in for gore, but Chelsea G. Summers’ A Certain Hunger had me riveted, repulsed, and unexpectedly charmed. When a novel begins with the protagonist describing how she murdered a man on Fire Island with an ice pick, you know you’re in for something different. But what A Certain Hunger delivers is not just a grisly tale of cannibalism—it’s also a sharp, biting satire, a love letter to food writing, and a deep dive into the mind of a woman who is both mesmerizing and monstrous.

Dorothy Daniels is a food critic with impeccable taste, a robust sex life, and absolutely no moral compass. Oh—and she’s a cannibal. Somehow, that last detail isn’t mentioned on the book jacket, but I feel like it should be. Readers who shy away from graphic violence (and I count myself among them) might want to know what they’re signing up for. That said, I found myself devouring this book with the same uneasy compulsion as watching Game of Thrones—cringing through the most grotesque parts, occasionally looking away, but always coming back for more.

Some readers and reviewers have described A Certain Hunger as a feminist horror novel. I’m not sure I buy it. Dorothy isn’t a woman exacting justice or reclaiming power. She’s just a psychopath. A highly intelligent, deeply articulate, sexually liberated psychopath, yes—but not, in my view, a feminist icon. Her crimes aren’t politically motivated. They’re personal, indulgent, and chillingly devoid of remorse. And yet, I couldn’t look away. The jury is still out for me. Either nothing about this novel is feminist or every single word of it is.

Summers’ prose is part of what makes this novel so disturbingly compelling. It’s lush and lyrical without being pretentious—almost decadent, like the meals Dorothy describes in sensuous detail. The writing never screams “literary fiction,” but it’s clear that Summers is a master of her craft. The beauty of the language serves as a dark counterpoint to the horrors being described, which somehow makes them hit even harder.

Dorothy isn’t likable. She isn’t even particularly relatable. And yet, she is fascinating. I’ve been reading a lot of books lately that feature women as killers—sometimes seeking revenge, sometimes meting out justice—but Dorothy doesn’t fit that mold. She kills for herself, and herself alone. The closest she comes to human connection is her friendship with Emma, another woman who might be just as off-kilter. Emma is the only character who seems to truly accept Dorothy for who she is—but I wonder if that would hold if she knew what Dorothy had really done.

There’s also something to be said about the question of likeability. Male antiheroes—Dexter, Hannibal Lecter, even Patrick Bateman—have long been given space to be complex, morally bankrupt, and wildly compelling. Dorothy deserves that same space. She may be unlikable and unrelatable, but she’s also unforgettable. And I’m dying to know how other readers respond to her.

If you have a strong stomach and a taste for dark, voice-driven fiction, I can’t recommend A Certain Hunger enough. Just don’t read it while eating.

Have you read A Certain Hunger? Did you love it? Hate it? Couldn’t put it down? I want to hear everything. Drop your thoughts in the comments—I’m dying to discuss.

Related Content

• A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G. Summers – With recipe included! (Food in Books)
• Chelsea G. Summers Interview (Pen America)
• Why the serial killer novel is the new feminist fiction (CrimeReads)
• 5 horror books featuring ladies who kill (Reactor)

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