If you enjoyed the raw, investigative intensity of 'Barbarous Mexico', you might dive into 'The Looming Tower' by Lawrence Wright. It’s not about Mexico, but it shares that same unflinching look at systemic corruption and violence, just centered around the rise of Al-Qaeda. Wright’s storytelling grips you like a thriller while exposing layers of political failure—similar to how 'Barbarous Mexico' pulls back the curtain on early 20th-century exploitation. Another deep cut: 'The Devil’s Highway' by Luis Alberto Urrea. It’s a harrowing account of migrant journeys through the Sonoran Desert, written with such vivid humanity that it lingers like a shadow. Urrea doesn’t just report; he makes you feel the desperation and resilience, much like Turner’s work.
For something closer to the historical critique of 'Barbarous Mexico', try 'Open Veins of Latin America' by Eduardo Galeano. It’s a poetic yet brutal dissection of colonialism’s economic ravages across the continent. Galeano’s prose burns with indignation, mirroring Turner’s exposé style. If you’re open to fiction that carries the same weight, Roberto Bolaño’s '2666' fictionalizes the Juárez femicides with a sprawling, unsettling narrative. It’s less about Mexico’s past and more about its modern horrors, but the thematic throughline of injustice feels eerily parallel.