SUCKER

This skewering of Silicon Valley startup culture is biting satire—complete with fangs.

Set in San Narciso, a barely fictionalized version of San Francisco, the story follows Chuck Gross, the disappointing scion of a billionaire who made his money the old-fashioned way: arms and labor exploitation. Chuck thinks he’s eager to separate himself from his family—he’s changed his name from Charles Grossheart and started a punk record label (secretly funded with family money, natch)—but everything changes when he’s actually cut off financially. He catches a break when he’s hired as a “creative consultant” by his college friend Olivia Watts, known as “Steve Jobs, but with a heart” in this fictional Silicon Valley. The one catch is that she would like the Grosshearts to invest. While Chuck doesn’t mind helping his family acquire more wealth, he quickly realizes that her startup’s “world-changing medical technology” is working toward the goal of “remov[ing] all human expiration dates” through means that are less scientific and more Nosferatu. Even as the perennial black sheep, Chuck has to decide if he can really involve his family in a plan that Bram Stoker couldn’t have dreamed up. It’s a clever idea, and as in Jonathan Swift’s A Modest Proposal, it’s a bit hard to tell where the line between satire and reality lies. If it turned out that the buzzy weight-loss drug Ozempic were derived from vampires, would people actually stop taking it? It’s hard to imagine a world where rich folks offered a shot at immortality and incredible wealth wouldn’t take it, even if it came with insatiable bloodlust. While the plot takes a while to unfurl and Chuck, who seems to embody the concept of “failing upwards,” is not exactly relatable, anyone who enjoyed the delicious schadenfreude of the Theranos trial will get a kick out of this book.

If Chuck Palahniuk and Stephenie Meyer teamed up to write a spec script for Succession, this is what you might get.