Os Canibais (2019): Unmasking the Dark Heart of Portuguese Literary Allegory

In *Os Canibais* (2019), literary critic Ana Costa unveils a layered, provocative critique of narrative desire, power, and cannibalism as a metaphor for cultural violence—themes that reverberate through Portuguese literature with unexpected intensity. Drawing on psychological theory, postcolonial lens, and textual precision, her review reframes this enigmatic work not as mere fiction, but as an allegory dissecting how society consumes its “others” from within. As Costa argues, Os Canibais functions as both mirror and scalpel, exposing the paradox of identity shaped through denial, absorption, and aggression.

At the core of Os Canibais lies the concept of cannibalism—not literal cruelty, but a psychosocial mechanism where characters metaphorically “devour” cultural, moral, and existential others. Costa identifies three interwoven layers: the individual’s internal struggle with self-conception, the societal pattern of projecting shame onto marginalized groups, and the broader historical legacy of Portuguese colonialism. “Cannibalism here becomes a lived ontology,” Centesima writes, “a rhythm of refusal and assimilation that forges identity.” This tripartite structure transforms the novel into a profound exploration of self-destruction as a path to recognition.

Costa meticulously analyzes narrative techniques—particularly stream-of-consciousness and fragmented temporality—that mirror the characters’ fractured sense of self. The protagonist’s voice oscillates between denial and confession, embodying the cognitive dissonance of someone caught in a compulsive cycle of consumption and creation. Key moments include: - A ritualistic feast where food is metaphorically “digested” as symbolic assimilation - Recurring dreams of consumption that parallel real-life alienation - Dialogue cycles that echo colonial discourse, reframing “the native” as a ghost in the colonizer’s psyche

Her analysis of character psychology reveals how authors like Os Canibais portray identity not as fixed, but as performative and voracious.

The characters do not simply kill; they internalize, rebrand, and reassert themselves through the act of consumption. Critics of earlier literary readings often misinterpret this as mere violence, but Costa insists: “It’s about survival through internalization—eating others not to destroy, but to understand what we cannot name.”

The historical context deepens Os Canibais’ resonance. Published amid rising nationalist sentiment and renewed debates over Portugal’s colonial past, the novel interrogates how nations metabolize their troubled histories.

Costa argues that “Os Canibais exposes Portugal’s collective culinary guilt—how we consume our own stereotypes, our suppressed violence, to maintain an idealized national myth.” Texts from Luís de Camões to contemporary playwrights echo this motif, showing a cultural script where assimilation is both a survival tactic and a slow self-annihilation.

Critical debates surrounding the review highlight persistent tensions in interpreting the novel’s tone—some describe it as grotesque, others as sublime horror. Yet Costa defends the work’s aesthetic sovereignty.

“Its power lies not in shock, but in its rigor,” she states. “It does not offer catharsis—it demands reckoning.” Readers encounter discomfort, but this is intentional. The novel’s fragmented form and moral ambiguity refuse easy resolution, compelling engagement rather than passive consumption.

Os Canibais thus stands as a landmark in Portuguese literary criticism, challenging readers to confront uncomfortable truths about how identity, culture, and history are “ingested” and reconstituted over time. Its enduring relevance lies not in providing answers, but in amplifying the questions—about voice, trauma, and the rituals that bind societies to themselves. As one scholar notes, “Centas’s review transforms Os Canibais from a novel into a diagnostic tool, revealing the cancerous traces of denial in national consciousness.”

From its psychological depth to its postcolonial commentary, Os Canibais (2019) offers a blueprint for reading literature as lived experience.

Centas’s review does not just interpret the text—it animates its pulse, reminding us that within every act of consumption lies a desperate, defiant attempt to be whole. In a world still grappling with identity and memory, this work is not merely literary—it is essential.