The Disappearance of Gregory Pluckrose

Let me make clear from the outset, I detest adventure. Its tasteless, showy, vulgar, and uncalled for. So begins this delicious thriller about a gay interior decorator who joins his super-wealthy clients for a Caribbean cruise, only to find himself shanghaied by pirates. Bound hand and foot and tossed unceremoniously into a quaint, Paul Gauguin sort of hut picturesquely thatched with banana leaves, Gregory fears he will be boiled la langouste and served without so much as a creative sauce. But one night, as he lies in the dark with his face in the dirt, he hears a digging, snooting sound coming from the ground outside . . . Enter the most endearing sidekick in fiction, the brave pig Savarin. High adventure is turned on its head in this affectionate satire of yuppie values. It is as if Oscar Wilde had been parachuted into the jungle, says the New York Times. You will find yourself picking out and stowing away your favorite lines. There are enough twists in the story to make a yogi sore. Under the spell of Gundys droll and accomplished prose you will end up smiling through the whole thing.