Carl Hiaasen has built a career out of sharp, satirical novels set in his native Florida—books that blend tightly woven plots, eccentric characters, and a dry, biting wit. I hadn’t read one of his novels in several years, but when his publisher offered me a copy of his latest, Fever Beach, I jumped at the chance to dive back in. I’m glad I did.
Fever Beach begins with Dale Figgo, a man so astoundingly dim he was kicked out of the Proud Boys—not for his hate, but for his stupidity. During the January 6th insurrection, Figgo proudly smeared feces on what he believed was a statue of Ulysses S. Grant. In reality, it was Confederate General James Zachariah George. For the Proud Boys, this was a bridge too far. Not the act itself, of course—just the misdirected target.
Banished and undeterred, Figgo doubles down, founding his own fringe extremist group, the Strokers of Liberty. Yes, you read that right. A band of conspiracy-loving MAGA castoffs who are united by their far-right paranoia and, incredibly, a shared passion for masturbation. This is Carl Hiaasen at his most unhinged—and, somehow, his most on-point.
Enter Viva Morales, a broke, newly divorced woman desperate for housing, who ends up renting a room in Figgo’s crumbling apartment. She works for the Mink Foundation, a supposedly philanthropic organization led by grotesquely over-surgeried billionaires Claude and Eletra Mink, who, behind closed doors, are quietly bankrolling the far-right agenda. Viva eventually joins forces with Twilly Spree, a wealthy environmentalist with a volatile temper and a tendency to cause public scenes. Together, they're pulled into a tangle of dark money, political corruption, and motivations murkier than a Florida swamp.
Hiaasen presents a rogue’s gallery of misfits and monsters in a sprawling satire of political chaos, personal vice, and pure Floridian madness. Fever Beach delivers everything readers have come to expect from him: tangled plots, outrageous hijinks, environmental subtext, and a parade of morally suspect characters. But in our current post-truth era—shaped by the shadow of a Donald Trump presidency—Hiaasen’s political satire feels more pointed than ever. And he doesn't hold back. Fever Beach is a blistering commentary on disinformation, corruption, and the cult of personality, with Hiaasen’s trademark humor cutting through the absurdity like a machete in the mangroves.
Is it subtle? Not at all. But it’s wildly entertaining. Equal parts screwball crime caper and scathing political farce, Fever Beach reminded me why Hiaasen has remained a distinctive voice in American fiction for decades. This one’s political, folks, and it’s all the better for it. Buckle up. It’s a wild ride.
For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.
(2025, 39)
