The Beach

by Alex Garland

“Europeans think all Americans are stupid, so we act stupid to confirm your prejudices. Then we reveal ourselves as intelligent, and by doing so, subvert the prejudice more effectively than an immediate barrage of intellect—which only causes confusion and, ultimately, resentment.” “Really?” I said, genuinely impressed. “That’s so elaborate.” Zeph laughed. “No, not really. We just do it for fun.”

She had the American habit of frequently using one’s name. It had the strange effect of being both disarmingly familiar and unnaturally forced.

I had ambiguous feelings about the differences between tourists and travelers—the problem being that the more I traveled, the smaller the differences became. But the one difference I could still latch onto was that tourists went on holidays while travelers did something else. They traveled.

The nicest thing was when you heard your name but couldn’t recognize the voice. I always found it comforting that someone unexpected would think to choose me. I’d fall asleep wondering who it could have been, and who I’d choose the next time.

“The funny thing about facing death,” he’d said, “is that you find you aren’t afraid. If anything, you’re calm. Alert, naturally, but calm.” I’d nodded vigorously. I wasn’t agreeing with him out of personal experience. I was just too thrilled to do anything but move my head.

The only downside was that I wasn’t able to claim being alert (naturally) but calm, which was a line I fully intended to use one day.

The serious travelers had already moved on to the next island in the chain, the intermediary travelers were wondering where all the life had gone, and the tourist hordes were ready to descend on their freshly beaten track.

I began scanning the dark bodies that lounged around me as if I were photographing the enemy, familiarizing myself with the images, filing them away. Occasionally couples walked near me and I caught snatches of their conversations. I must have heard twenty different accents and languages. Most I didn’t understand, but they all sounded like threats.

Up and down the beach, four or five different sound systems blasted out, each with its own agenda.