A resort vacation? Thousands. A novel making fun of one? Less than 30 bucks! And the look on your rich cousin’s face when she realizes you don’t give a shit about her tan and plan to ask her leading questions about labor conditions instead of letting her show you pictures? Priceless. (This is a hypothetical cousin I’m making up here, in case any of my actual family is reading).
Why bother lamenting a lack of travel to new territories when you can stand firm in the knowledge of your own moral high ground? Americans are all badly dressed assholes abroad anyway, like, who shells out for an international plane ticket but won’t bother investing in long pants (that’s aimed at all the Germans, too – why are you all always wearing shorts?)
Anyhoo, with the conclusion of the third season of White Lotus, it’s the perfect time to read some books about rich people dying in the tropics! Even though the New York Times already ran a similar list, THIS list distinguishes itself by embracing all-new titles out this year (and one classic noir that was shockingly snubbed by the Times).
Cleyvis Natera, The Grand Paloma Resort
(Ballantine, August 12)
Cleyvis Natera blew me away with her debut Neruda in the Park and her sophomore novel is truly the perfect follow-up from White Lotus. Set in a ritzy Dominican resort ostensibly located in a historic community of freedmen from the United States, The Grand Paloma follows staff and guests undergoing a variety of crises as a deadly hurricane approaches, and as characters steadily realize their moral compromises are no longer enough to hold off the twinned destruction of late-stage capitalism and its accompanying environmental collapse.
I have feelings about the ending. Mainly I liked it a lot, was completely surprised by it, and need to talk to folks about the book so you all need to read it, finish it, then talk to me about it in like 6 months. Okay?
Jo Morey, Lime Juice Money
(Harper, August 12)
In this thrilling, atmospheric debut, a woman trapped in a dangerous relationship finds herself isolated in the Belizean jungle and caught up in a complex orchid smuggling effort linked to decades-old family sins. The title comes from a recurring phrase in the book: “champagne dreams with lime juice money”, eventually discovered to be lyrics to a song played during a significant, and long-forgotten, memory. That contrast—dreams vs. reality—forms the central axis of each character’s development, negotiated well by some and disastrously by others.
Krysten Ritter, Retreat
(Harper, March 25)
Krysten Ritter writes the kind of books she likes to read—thrilling, complex takes on compromised heroines facing terrifying obstacles. In Retreat, a con artist heads to an insular community off the coast of Mexico to hide out and take stock. Upon arrival, she finds her host missing, and her identity easy to assume, but Ritter’s heroine soon encounters more danger under her new name than she ever faced before.
Andrea Bartz, The Last Ferry Out
(Ballantine)
Andrea Bartz is at the top of her game in this moody thriller set on a remote Mexican island full of secretive vacationers. Bartz’s narrator isn’t on vacation, though—she’s there to find out more about her fiancee’s last days, and learn if there’s a wider story behind her partner’s shocking death from food allergens.
Trisha Sakhlecha, The Inheritance
(Pamela Dorman)
At last, a psychological thriller that mentions the Highland Clearances! Trisha Sakhlecha’s propulsive debut reads a bit like Succession, if it was a locked room mystery set on a terrifyingly remote island. When a wealthy Indian family reunites to celebrate their patriarch’s retirement, the younger generation plans to spend their vacation squabbling over finances, but a shocking tragedy soon threatens to dismantle their empire entirely.
Barry Gifford, Port Tropique
(Black Lizard)
While many have recommended The Mosquito Coast or Alex Garland’s The Beach as proper backlist fair for the White Lotus enthusiast, I find Barry Gifford’s Port Tropique to be even more of a match for the slow-burn show. The introduction to the 1986 edition, which is the one I found on my family’s bookshelf, describes Port Tropique as Heart of Darkness if it was written by Borges, and I can confirm: this novel is dark, stylish, and deeply condemning.
