The Secret Dinner

Raphael Montes, Transl. Zoë Perry
62 pages2-hour read
Fiction
Novel
Adult
Published in 2026

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Background

Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of death, graphic violence, and emotional abuse.

Authorial Context: Raphael Montes

Raphael Montes was born in Rio de Janeiro in 1990 and trained as a lawyer before dedicating himself fully to fiction. He began writing seriously as a teenager, and at the age of 22, he published his debut novel, Suicidas (2011), a thriller about a group of law students who agree to play a potentially fatal game of Russian roulette. The novel was shortlisted for the Benvirá Prize and the São Paulo Prize for Literature in the Best Debut Novel category, immediately marking Montes as a precocious voice in Brazilian crime writing. His second novel, Dias Perfeitos (Perfect Days, 2014), was his international breakthrough. It tells the story of a reclusive medical student who kidnaps a young screenwriter and holds her captive on a road trip across Brazil, and it has been translated into more than 20 languages and optioned for film adaptation. The novel drew comparisons to Patricia Highsmith and Bret Easton Ellis for its coldly rational, morally repellent narrator and its clinical prose.


Montes followed Dias Perfeitos with Jantar Secreto (2016), published in English as The Secret Dinner, and later with Uma Mulher no Escuro (2018), continuing his preoccupation with transgression, class, and the thin veneer of civility separating respectability from atrocity. Although the original Portuguese novel Jantar Secreto was published in 2016, the English translation updates the story’s timeline to include the COVID-19 pandemic, with the first chapter taking place in 2024. Alongside his novels, he has written short fiction, including contributions to the collection Histórias para Avó Matar o Neto (2015), and has worked extensively as a screenwriter. He created and served as showrunner for the Netflix series Bom Dia, Verônica (Good Morning, Verônica, 2020), adapted from a novel he co-wrote under the pseudonym Andrea Killmore, which examines femicide and police corruption in São Paulo. He has also adapted works by Agatha Christie for Brazilian television and curated crime-fiction anthologies for the publisher Companhia das Letras.


Montes writes in a lean, propulsive style indebted to Anglo-American thriller traditions but filtered through specifically Brazilian anxieties about inequality, impunity, and urban violence—preoccupations that find creative expression in The Secret Dinner.

Cultural Context: Class Inequality in Brazil

Brazil has long ranked among the most unequal societies in the world, a legacy of three centuries of chattel slavery—abolished only in 1888, later than anywhere else in the Americas—and of a 20th-century development model that concentrated land, capital, and political power in the hands of a small elite. By the early 2000s, Brazil’s Gini coefficient routinely placed it among the 10 most unequal countries globally, according to World Bank data (“Gini Index – Brazil.” World Bank Group). The administrations of Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva (2003-2010) and Dilma Rousseff (2011-2016) of the Workers’ Party oversaw a notable reduction in extreme poverty through programs such as Bolsa Família, a conditional cash-transfer scheme that reached roughly a quarter of the Brazilian population at its peak. Commodity booms, rising minimum wages, and expanded access to credit lifted an estimated 30 million people into what analysts called a “new middle class” (“Inequality in Focus, August 2013: Experiences From China and Brazil.” World Bank Group).


That progress proved fragile. By 2014, Brazil had entered its deepest recession in a century, with its gross domestic product contracting sharply over the following two years and unemployment climbing above 12%. The Lava Jato (Car Wash) corruption investigation, launched in 2014, implicated executives at the state oil company Petrobras along with politicians across the ideological spectrum, hollowing out public faith in democratic institutions. Rousseff was impeached in 2016—the year The Secret Dinner was published—on charges of fiscal manipulation, a process that her supporters denounced as a parliamentary coup. The economic contraction fell hardest on the recently ascended lower-middle class and on young, university-educated Brazilians who found themselves saddled with debt and few job prospects, a demographic to which Montes’s protagonists conspicuously belong.


Rio de Janeiro offered the most visually arresting evidence of these fractures. The city hosted the 2014 FIFA World Cup and the 2016 Summer Olympics, investments that produced glittering stadiums and transit lines while mass evictions cleared favela residents from desirable neighborhoods. The pacification program meant to secure favelas before the games largely collapsed by 2016, and homicide rates climbed again. Beachfront enclaves such as Leblon and Ipanema sat within walking distance of settlements lacking reliable sanitation or electricity.


The disillusionment of this period laid the groundwork for the 2018 election of Jair Bolsonaro, a far-right former army captain who campaigned on anti-corruption rhetoric, hardline public-security measures, and nostalgia for the 1964-1985 military dictatorship. Under Bolsonaro, the class divide widened sharply. The dismantling of Bolsa Família in 2021—rebranded as the less generous and more erratic Auxílio Brasil—coincided with the pandemic’s economic shock to push food insecurity to levels not seen in a generation: By 2022, Rede PENSSAN estimated that 33 million Brazilians were going hungry, more than double the figure of 2020, while agribusiness fortunes and the top decile’s share of national income surged (“2nd National Survey on Food Insecurity in the Context of the Covid-19 Pandemic in Brazil.” Rede PENSSAN). Accelerated deforestation in the Amazon, a catastrophically mismanaged COVID-19 response that killed more than 700,000 Brazilians, and the gutting of labor protections compounded the regression. Lula narrowly defeated Bolsonaro in the 2022 election and returned to the presidency in January 2023, restoring Bolsa Família, raising the minimum wage above inflation, and declaring the eradication of hunger a central policy goal. His first term back in office was volatile—marked by the January 8, 2023, storming of government buildings in Brasília by Bolsonaro supporters, Bolsonaro’s subsequent conviction in 2025 for his role in the coup attempt, and bruising fights with an agribusiness-aligned Congress—but by 2026, extreme poverty had fallen measurably, and food insecurity had retreated. In October 2026, Lula was returned to office for a further term, again defeating a Bolsonaro-endorsed candidate in a bitterly contested runoff. The class fissures that Montes anatomizes have been contested and partially narrowed, but they remain unresolved.

Genre Context: Horror and the Psychological Thriller

Horror and thriller fiction share an interest in danger, suspense, and the darker aspects of human behavior, but they typically approach these subjects in different ways. Thrillers generate tension through escalating threats, uncertain outcomes, and characters attempting to evade or overcome danger. Horror, meanwhile, emphasizes fear, revulsion, and the violation of familiar boundaries, often confronting readers with situations that challenge their sense of what is natural or morally acceptable. Psychological thrillers complicate these distinctions by locating much of the danger within the characters themselves, exploring obsession, paranoia, deception, and the gradual erosion of moral judgment. Works that combine these genres can create suspense not only around what will happen next but also around how far their characters are willing to go.


One important tradition within horror is the use of ordinary circumstances as the starting point for increasingly disturbing events. Rather than introducing an obviously supernatural threat, such narratives may begin with recognizable social relationships, financial pressures, or personal ambitions that gradually lead characters into extraordinary situations. This approach is especially effective when the protagonists participate in the violence themselves, forcing readers to confront the reasoning through which seemingly ordinary people justify extreme behavior. Dark humor and satire can intensify this discomfort by presenting horrifying actions through familiar language, social rituals, or professional routines. In The Secret Dinner, the transformation of an elaborate dinner party into an organized criminal enterprise exemplifies this combination of everyday circumstances, escalating transgression, and grotesque comedy.


Cannibalism has a particularly long history in horror fiction, where it often represents more than the physical act of consuming human flesh. It can symbolize the breakdown of social prohibitions, the reduction of people to commodities, or the exploitation of vulnerable individuals by those with greater power. In Thomas Harris’s The Silence of the Lambs (1988), for example, Hannibal Lecter’s cultivated manners and intellectual sophistication contrast with his acts of cannibalistic violence, unsettling the assumed relationship between refinement and morality. Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho (1991) similarly juxtaposes extreme brutality with consumer culture, wealth, and social status, using graphic violence and satire to expose the emptiness beneath an affluent lifestyle. Although these novels differ considerably in their narrative approaches, both demonstrate how horror can emerge from environments ordinarily associated with privilege and respectability.


Brazilian crime and horror fiction has also explored the relationship between violence, social inequality, and outward respectability. Rubem Fonseca’s A Grande Arte (1983) combines crime fiction with graphic violence and observations of urban life, while contemporary writers such as André Vianco and Santiago Nazarian have incorporated supernatural horror, psychological disturbance, and literary experimentation into Brazilian genre fiction. Brazilian literary traditions also give cannibalism a distinctive symbolic history. Oswald de Andrade’s Manifesto Antropófago (1928) transforms anthropophagy into a metaphor for cultural appropriation and transformation, using the image of consumption to challenge European cultural dominance. Although The Secret Dinner employs cannibalism in a very different context, its treatment of wealthy diners consuming marginalized people invites consideration of consumption as both a literal act and a metaphor for social exploitation.


The Secret Dinner combines these traditions through its mixture of psychological suspense, graphic bodily horror, crime fiction, and social satire. Its escalating criminal plot provides the momentum of a thriller, while the preparation and consumption of human bodies introduce the visceral disturbances associated with horror. The novel also draws on dark comedy, particularly when its characters discuss murder, butchery, and cannibalism in the practical language of business management and fine dining. By placing these events within a recognizable social environment, Montes blurs the distinction between ordinary ambition and monstrous behavior. The resulting horror arises not from supernatural forces but from the characters’ increasingly elaborate efforts to make their actions seem reasonable.

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