Cave Girl

I went into *Cave Girl* expecting another pulpy adventure, but Burroughs delivered something far sharper—a story that laughs at its own ridiculousness while still delivering plenty of sweat, blood, and survivalist grit. The narrator, whoever they are, absolutely nails the tonal whiplash required here. They start with Waldo’s insufferable, Oxford-tinged arrogance—every “my good fellow” drips with the kind of privilege that makes you want to throw him overboard yourself—before pivoting seamlessly into the guttural, labored speech of the island’s inhabitants. The pacing is relentless, but it’s the narrator��s ability to shift between these extremes mid-sentence that makes the listening experience so addictive. There were moments, though, where the vocal strain on the more brutal scenes felt a touch forced, as if the narrator was pushing too hard to sell the primitivism. Still, it worked in service of the larger joke. Waldo himself is a masterclass in unintentional comedy—less a hero than a cautionary tale about what happens when a man’s only survival skill is quoting Emerson. The island’s rules are brutal, its dangers visceral, and the story’s refusal to romanticize either Waldo’s transformation or his eventual “taming” of the wild is refreshing. The audiobook’s production doesn’t shy away from the book’s more grotesque moments, either: the squelch of mud underfoot, the snap of a bone, the way the narrator’s voice cracks when Waldo finally understands he’s not the smartest creature on the island. If I had one critique, it’s that the later stages of Waldo’s evolution—where he becomes a de facto leader among the islanders—feel slightly rushed. But given the book’s satirical bent, that might just be intentional. Either way, this is a far funnier and more biting adventure than its pulpy exterior suggests.