In a world that offers us new gods, a man returns home to discover that the sacred was never in the sky.
They arrived without warning. They did not descend from the sky, nor speak in ancient tongues. They simply appeared, capable of bending the human will, and one by one the world began to bow before them. They were called angels for lack of a better word.
Tomás, a priest living in Montreal, has resisted them in silence for years, even as his own faith fractures. Until one of them, with no more than his presence, takes from him what remained of his congregation. When news arrives of the death of Isaías, the old father who had been his spiritual guide, Tomás returns for the first time in more than two decades to Ocao: the Venezuelan coastal village where he was born, where he loved Amalia, and where one Corpus Christi night changed his life forever.
When God no longer fulfilled the role of the superhuman source of meaning in our lives, we did not try to give our lives meaning on our own, but instead merely sought out new superhuman sources of meaning. In this way we maintained our religious fervor…
Occasional letters from the writing desk: new work, readings, and the stories behind the stories.
I'm interested in exploring a man's search for himself in a world that peddles endless ideas, ideologies, and religions, each one seducing him to behave one way or another. Sometimes the body carries more of the divine than any act of devotion.
David Cabrera is a Venezuelan audiovisual producer and writer based in Canada. For years he worked in the film and television industry in Venezuela. He wrote and directed the short film The Whistler, a story born from the oral folklore of the Venezuelan llanos. They Danced for the Flesh is his debut novel: a story of guilt and redemption, of excessive devotion, and the beauty of the carnal.
Would you like to contact me for an author talk or event?
They arrived without warning. They did not descend from the sky, nor speak in ancient tongues. They simply appeared, capable of bending the human will, and one by one the world began to bow before them. They were called angels for lack of a better word.
Tomás, a priest living in Montreal, has resisted them in silence for years. An effort he has sustained even as his own faith begins to fracture. Until one of them, with no more than his presence, takes from him what remained of his congregation.
When news arrives of the death of Isaías, the old father who had been his spiritual guide, Tomás returns for the first time in more than two decades to Ocao: the Venezuelan coastal village where he was born, where he loved Amalia, and where one Corpus Christi night changed his life forever. He finds empty streets, sealed houses, and a community of elders worshipping a being with skin of bronze and hair of ebony called Zahiel.
What Tomás uncovers there, between drums and masks, between the murmur of the sea and Amalia's arms, is not only the truth behind Zahiel. It is the truths of the past that have fed his guilt for twenty years and that now, at last, refuse to remain buried.
A novel about faith, absolution, and the divine's hunger to inhabit the flesh.
“He had spent most of his adult life convinced that a divine order existed, one that guaranteed absolution and meaning. Now, having known the sublime of the flesh, his perspective had changed.”
“This grief, this love, this terrible and beautiful pain, this was what Zahiel had wanted so desperately and could never possess. This was what it meant to be of flesh.”
Watch the official book trailer on YouTube.
I'm interested in exploring a man's search for himself in a world that peddles endless ideas, ideologies, and religions, each one seducing him to behave one way or another. Sometimes the body carries more of the divine than any act of devotion.
David Cabrera was born in Caracas, Venezuela, where he worked for several years in the film and television industry. He wrote and directed the short film The Whistler, a work rooted in the oral folklore of the Venezuelan llanos, where a figure emerges from the silence of the countryside to punish the sins of men.
After moving to Canada, he continued his work in audiovisual production and currently leads the audiovisual department of an international NGO. Yet alongside the craft of images, an older one kept beating: the work of written words, of stories that only fully take shape on the page.
They Danced for the Flesh is his debut novel. Written between Montreal and Ocao (a fictional coastal village stitched together from the cacao plantations, the fishermen, and the Diablos Danzantes of the Venezuelan coast), it marks his transition from filmmaking to literature, and brings his cinematic eye to a story of memory, guilt, and the dangerous beauty of things that ask for our worship.
Available for interviews, readings, book club visits, and festival appearances, in English and Spanish.
Whether you're a reader, journalist, podcast host, or fellow writer, I welcome all messages.
If They Danced for the Flesh moved you, or unsettled you, or asked you questions you're still sitting with, I'd be honored to hear it.
As an independent author, an honest review is the quiet form of generosity that keeps this work alive. A few sentences, warm, skeptical, whatever you truly felt, help the book find its way to other readers, and shape the stories I write next.
Honest reviews help the book reach the readers it was written for, the ones asking the same quiet questions. Even a few sentences are a gift.
Step into the world of the novel: a priest at a pulpit in Montreal, holding a broken rosary, losing his congregation to a creature that has slipped in from the night. The opening chapters carry him from the moment his faith finally breaks to the decision that will change his fate forever.
The Spanish edition is ready. The English translation is still in progress; leave your email and I'll send the chapters the moment they're available.