That Which Feeds Us by Keala Kendall

Synopsis:

For the world’s wealthiest, Kōpaʻa Island Resort is more than a destination. It’s the ultimate escape. With no cell service or Wi-Fi, the Hawaiian island is a coveted wellness retreat renowned for its persimmon orchard and promises of rejuvenation.
But their dream vacation is Lehua’s nightmare. When her twin sister, Ohia, goes missing, Lehua follows her trail to Kōpaʻa to find her. Instead, Lehua is cut off from civilization—and help—after the island’s boat leaves without her, stranding her with the resort’s lavish guests and enigmatic staff.
As Lehua investigates Ohia’s disappearance, she discovers her missing sister isn’t the island’s only mystery. Kōpaʻa’s rich exterior and sweet persimmons hide its dark plantation past. And Lehua can’t ignore the dreams haunting her each night—nor the warning telling her to leave the island at once. To uncover what happened to Ohia, Lehua will have to unearth the island’s bloody history and face the horrors that lurk within its sugarcane fields—or risk being consumed by them.
Sharply observed and gorgeously written, That Which Feeds Us explores the true cost of paradise as Lehua must fight to reclaim the land, the stories, and the very souls of her people.

My Edition:

Net Galley ARC

My Thoughts:

First off, I was super excited to delve into some Hawaiian Gothic. That isn’t a sub-genre I’ve experienced before. The opportunity to experience Gothic Horror through the lens of the Hawaiian diaspora was too good to pass up. Western Gothic is tired (I’ll never get tired of any GH, but I think you know what I mean). Although That Which Feeds Us is labeled as YA, the subject matter is as heavy as you might expect from GH. The writing did feel YA-targeted, and more on that later, but the story was good!

Kōpaʻa Island Resort seems like a desperately un-fun place. All the guests are certifiably weird in that way only the uber-rich seem to be capable of. The reader is frequently reminded that there is a pervasive undercurrent of rot wafting around the place. Specifically the scent of rotting persimmons, which sounds particularly gnarly.

That Which Feeds Us is steeped in cultural lore. It also contains one of the absolute best tropes: old money weirdos getting got. Generational uber-wealth is despicable and I love to see those who cling to it and use it as an excuse to be out of touch with reality get their comeuppance.

I also appreciate that Kendall used the story as a vehicle to discuss colonialism, cultural destruction, and income disparity. And that she did it while writing a truly impactful ghost story. That Which Feeds Us is a solid example of what I hope becomes a more widely available sub-genre (Hawaiian Gothic). I think that a place that is known for its beauty and serenity (at least according to the folks who vacation there – can’t speak on anyone else), but also has to grapple with its relatively recent colonization and seizure is rife for stories like this. I want more!

As I mentioned above though, I do feel that the writing is where the book really feels aimed at young adults. Not because the writing is poor (it isn’t at all), but because there is a lot of repetition. A lot of reminding the reader about the pervasive scent of spoiled fruit, about how the twins’ grandfather always knew the direction of Hawaii while living in the mainland US, etc. The ending is pretty horrifying in its execution, but also telegraphed pretty directly. Like, I really enjoyed the story, but I wish I had either read it as a younger reader, or that it had been written with a little more subtlety. But, that’s on me – I failed to notice the YA tag when I got it from Net Galley.

Rating:

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

If you don’t mind a YA or a bit of ick, I definitely recommend this one.

That Which Feeds Us
By: Keala Kendall
Random House Books for Young Readers
Published: May 05, 2026
ISBN: 9798217117963
Hardcover, Ebook, Audio
352 Pages

Author: Angie
Stranger Sights is a genre entertainment blog. It is run by me, Angie, and all opinions you'll find here are my own.

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