Fever Beach

“Viva was distracted by his teeth, which looked like dentures for a Clydesdale.”

Viva’s hyperbolic simile contributes to the story’s absurd humor by exaggerating the size and artificiality of Clure’s teeth. Her observation characterizes Viva as funny, sharp-witted, and somewhat judgmental. The suggestion that Clure has had extensive work done to enhance his teeth’s appearance characterizes Clure as both privileged and more concerned with appearances than authenticity.

“Since that day, he had hewn to a domestic routine that mimicked laziness but was actually him conserving energy for the next patriotic storming, which was bound to come.”

Jonas Onus is a caricature of hypocrisy, pretending to exalt so-called “traditional” values while neglecting his children and their mothers, living off a false disability claim, and spending most of his time listening to right-wing radio in his truck. The use of satirically elevated diction like “hewn” and “domestic routine,” along with emotionally charged language like “patriotic storming,” emphasizes his rebranding of his motives as elevated ones. Passages like this one portray Onus as yet another of Hiaasen’s negative examples of Authentic Morality Versus Moral Facade.

“Nobody’s bringin’ their kids down here to see Mickey Mouse if the streets of America are on fire.”

In Figgo’s explanation of the limits that Clure has placed on the Wee Hammers fund, “Mickey Mouse” functions as a synecdoche for Florida’s larger tourist economy—and by extension, the economic structures that keep money flowing into the hands of the elite. This points out a basic contradiction between the aims of people like Figgo and people like Clure. Powerful, wealthy people like Clure are interested in maintaining the status quo, while people like Figgo are interested in disrupting it.

“I’ll quit. Go public. Testify. Move on.”

Viva’s explanation of what she will do once she uncovers the truth about the Minks and Clure is a series of fragments that create a choppy, disconnected tone. This tone implies that she has not had much time to consider her plan and that her thoughts are still forming as she speaks. She unhesitatingly commits to doing what is right, however, making her character a strong support for the idea of authentic morality versus moral facade.

“Ten gets you as far as the courthouse steps […] After that, we’re talking serious money.”

Pete Webster’s explanation of how expensive his legal representation is points out that the American legal system works differently for defendants of different income levels. Webster implies that in his world, $10,000 is not “serious money,” demonstrating how different his reality is from Figgo’s. Although the text satirizes people like Figgo, this moment acknowledges the existence of larger systemic issues that contribute to the feeling of alienation that people like him feel.

“‘Dude, I ain’t no blackmailer,’ she said.”

Galaxy’s protest is ironic because she is speaking to Clure, the man she is actively blackmailing. Her diction—addressing him as “Dude”—suggests that she is in earnest: Galaxy does not think of herself as a blackmailer, despite her clear actions to the contrary. Many characters in the text fail to see themselves accurately, excusing actions in themselves that they scorn in others, and Galaxy is no exception. Her inability to see her own actions accurately is part of the story’s consideration of authentic morality versus moral facade.

“Clure Boyette was waiting in the bar when Viva arrived at the restaurant, a Greek joint owned by a Peruvian couple and operated by Serbian brothers.”

The comic details in this description of the restaurant emphasize both the diversity of southern Florida and the way modern business arrangements can create level after level of inauthenticity. This helps establish the narrative’s atmosphere and contributes to its satirical tone.

“How can this shit happen to a free white man in America?”

Figgo’s rhetorical question highlights his inability to take responsibility for his actions and is part of the text’s thematic arguments about morality and accountability. He is many payments behind on his truck, but instead of understanding the repossession as the natural consequence of his failure to honor a contract, he implies that there is something nefarious at work. His choice of descriptors for himself—“a free white man”—implies that his race should give him a special status that prevents him from experiencing failure and discomfort.

“The repulsive, rosy, obscene, luscious, perverse proxy ass rested on the duvet beside him—more proof that the [liberals] were dragging America’s morals into the sewer.”

The juxtaposition of alternating pairs of words with pejorative and positive connotations conveys Claude’s conflicting feelings as he crawls into bed with the Dream Booty sex toy. He is drawn to it but repulsed by his own sexual desire. He cannot examine his reaction honestly and instead projects his feelings onto the scapegoat of liberalism, making his character another negative example of inauthentic morality.

“From the outside it looked like a grand old plantation house. Onus left Himmler in the truck and went to buy a ticket to the wingding. He was outraged to learn that they cost a thousand bucks apiece.”

Like Figgo’s experience with his lawyer, Onus’s experience at Clure’s brunch points out how most Americans are priced out of access to the system, reinforcing the story’s theme of The Corrupting Influence of Dark Money. Those with enough money can get closer to their political representative than those without. Details like the plantation-house style of the country club, with its implicit tie to enslavement, contribute to the novel’s allusion to an unfair and forcibly stratified system.

“Jerry Jeff Tupelo […] was ‘Payback.’ Twilly Spree. […] was ‘Chaos.’”

At their first Strokers meeting, Tupelo and Twilly are asked to choose nicknames for themselves. Both choose names humorously laden with dramatic irony. The narrative has revealed that Twilly is there undercover, intending to disrupt the Strokers’ activities, and implies that Tupelo is actually Noel Kristiansen, there to seek retribution against Figgo for the hit-and-run, but Figgo is not aware of any of this.

“Afterward Claude stashed his alluring polymer companion in a wall safe behind a Chagall print in the den.”

Diction and detail both reinforce the novel’s idea that people in the upper class use their privilege to hide their baser natures behind a veneer of sophistication to give the appearance of being somehow better than other people. The word “stashed” indicates that Claude’s actions are covert, while the Chagall “print” is a representation of high class, but not an authentic one. The idea of a sex toy being hidden behind a Chagall print in an expensive home’s wall safe adds to the novel’s absurd comic tone.

“‘That’s what your son was throwing in people’s yards. Noel got furious when he read it. That’s why he confronted Dale.’

‘So you’re Jewish, then.’

‘We’re not, but that doesn’t matter.’”

This exchange between Mary and Donna illustrates one of the novel’s key ideas: Decent people are outraged by bigotry even when they are not the specific targets of that bigotry. This supports the novel’s contentions about authentic morality versus moral facade: Authentic morality means standing up for what is right, not just going along with what is easiest.

“Donna and Viva each had a French cruller. Donna warned the driver that she would Tase him in the neck if he nodded off.”

The juxtaposition of the description of the two women happily munching on French crullers with Donna’s threat to Tase their Uber driver is characteristic of the book’s sense of humor. Moments of absurdity like Donna’s violent threat against the driver punctuate everyday scenes grounded in real-world, commonplace locations like a Dunkin’ Donuts, implying that everyday reality is likewise absurd.

“If […] Twilly was just a working stiff with a regular job […] he wouldn’t have time to […] constantly [get] triggered, derailed, and carried away by some notion of justice […] Some random a-hole tosses a cigarette in the road, Twilly would just look away and let it go, like a normal person.”

Viva’s thoughts about the irony of Twilly’s position as a wealthy person fighting the corruption of the wealthy reveal another layer of the text’s consideration of the mixed morality of most people. If average people—like Viva—sometimes make small moral compromises, the novel argues, it is understandable in the context of survival in a system that severely limits their time and resources.

“[N]ot that she would have loved Clure any less, but she might have taken a firmer stance regarding his extracurricular interests, specifically his precocious collection of bondage-themed pornography.”

This passage’s use of the euphemistic “extracurricular interests” and sophisticated diction—“a firmer stance” and “precocious collection”—comically understate the subject’s seriousness, which is revealed in the surprising amplification at the end: “bondage-themed pornography.” That Clure would have had such an interest as a 10-year-old is shocking, while the fact that his parents did not intervene to help him is further evidence of the novel’s portrayal of the moral bankruptcy of the novel’s ultra-rich characters.

“Then he rounded up a few of the kids, placed various styles of hammers in their hands, and watched apprehensively as they pounded like tweaked-out chimps on the two-by-fours.”

The humorous simile comparing the Wee Hammers participants to meth-using chimpanzees conveys what a chaotic disaster the construction site is. The detail of “various styles of hammers” shows that Tomas is aware that neither Clure nor the film crew will recognize that the hammers are intended for different kinds of jobs—the entire operation is just for show, and no one is actually concerned with the safety or quality of the home being built.

“He had never been with a woman of color, or a polymer partial replica of a woman of color. To his surprise, the idea aroused him.”

Claude’s racist reaction to the dark-colored Dream Booty suggests that his negative feelings about women of color are a reaction formation: a rejection of his own unconscious desires. The qualification that he is about to have sex not with an actual Black woman but with “a polymer partial replica” makes clear that what makes this encounter appealing to him is its objectification of the Black body and its uncoupling of the Black body from Black consciousness.

“They waited outside as other Strokers arrived, some still hobbling from the Key West brawl—Bushmaster, Komodo, Bottle Rocket, Das Regulator in a knee brace, and Skid Mark with his busted jaw wired shut and his dinged testicles cosseted by a contoured Kevlar truss.”

Hiaasen uses the various Strokers’ nicknames as another absurd detail that satirizes the extreme right. Some names—Bushmaster, Komodo—ridicule their fantasies of being rugged outdoorsmen, while others, like “Das Regulator,” point to their fetishizing of Nazi Germany. The diction used in the description of their injuries underscores the point that their image of themselves as tough warriors is entirely fantasy: the comical description of “dinged testicles” makes light of Skid Mark’s injuries, while the juxtaposition of the formal term “cosseted” with the humorous idea of a military-style truss specifically contoured to support Skid Mark’s testicles suggests that the men are much less tough than they like to appear.

“Right. In your new electrician onesie that’s big enough to fit the pope.”

Several men in the story badly underestimate Galaxy’s intelligence and talent for self-preservation. Moe ignores clear warning signs that Galaxy knows his electrician’s uniform is just a costume: The sarcasm in her “Right” is evident in her diction—her dismissive reference to his uniform as a “onesie”—and in her humorously hyperbolic description of the uniform’s size. She also notes that the uniform is brand new, hinting at her understanding of the situation.

“You’ve left the planet, haven’t you, Twilly?”

Viva’s metaphor conveys how very distant and distracted Twilly seems. Her playful, affectionate banter cannot reach him because his mind is, metaphorically, miles away. This moment helps to characterize both Viva and Twilly and shows why their relationship works. Viva is patient and does not get upset with Twilly. Instead, she demonstrates that she understands him and the way his mind works. Twilly needs this kind of understanding because he is completely unable to focus on anything else once the thought of the excavator pops into his head.

“Clay Boyette’s tone of voice reminded Clure of that time his father caught him lobbing raccoon droppings into the family Jacuzzi.”

The detail of the raccoon droppings adds to the book’s absurd humor, while the fact that Clure would deposit these into his own family’s Jacuzzi demonstrates symbolically how Clure’s behavior “taints” the whole Boyette family. Their family privilege, represented by the Jacuzzi, is not enough to protect them from Clure’s undisciplined behavior and total lack of empathy. The fact that Clay’s voice as he confronts Clure reminds Clure of that long-ago incident emphasizes that Clure has not changed since he was a child—he is now simply an undisciplined and impulsive adult.

“A loosening of laws had made Florida second only to Texas in the push to make firearms more readily available to the impaired, incompetent, and unstable.”

By framing the lawmakers’ decision in these sarcastic terms, Hiaasen points out their failure to think through the consequences of their decisions, supporting the text’s satirical critique of Florida’s cultural and political climate. Alliteration—“loosening of laws”—and tricolon (a parallel structure)—“impaired, incompetent, and unstable”—create an engaging rhythm that supports the text’s humorous approach to its subject matter.