To start with, I want to acknowledge that this novel is attempting something noble. Taking the Ted Bundy case for inspiration, author Jessica Knoll seeks to de-sensationalize the serial killer narrative we are all so familiar with. For one thing, her main protagonist, Pamela Schumacher, refuses to use Bundy’s name, instead referring to him solely as “The Defendant.” Through Pamela, Knoll also tries to counteract the narrative that was constructed around him, that he was a handsome, charming, intelligent man who preyed on gullible women. She does so by pointing out that he was a terrible attorney on his own behalf, having had to bluff his way into law school and failing to graduate. That he didn’t actually seduce his victims, either overcoming them physically or tricking them by making himself appear to be injured and in need of help. That, in fact, in person he was not the confident, good-looking man the press seemed determined to portray him as.
Bright Young Women centers on three women whose lives are irrevocably altered by the Defendant’s crime spree. Pamela is a student at Florida State and the president of her sorority when he breaks into their house one night in 1978 and attacks four female students, killing two. Pamela sees him as he leaves, briefly confusing him for one of her friend’s on-again, off-again boyfriend. As Pamela tries to get the local police to take her seriously and get them to look at anyone other than the man she briefly misidentified as the killer, she meets Tina, a woman from Washington state whose friend Ruth was abducted by a man four years ago. Tina is convinced that the same man attacked Pamela’s sorority, and when she shows Pamela a photo, Pamela agrees. The two of them coordinate their efforts to seek justice for their friends, frequently becoming frustrated by the ineptitude and indifference of men.
In a parallel narrative, Knoll presents Ruth’s story from her own perspective. She’s a young woman whose overbearing mother has only become more controlling since the death of Ruth’s father. She meets Tina in a grief support group and they quickly become very close, which annoys Ruth’s mother quite a bit. As their bond grows deeper, Tina tries to help Ruth come out of her shell and get some perspective on her family’s manipulative and abusive behavior. This effort is tragically cut short, leaving Tina to crusade for her friend alone, as Ruth’s family would rather see the entire matter swept under the rug than face the public scrutiny of a court case.
I quite enjoyed the beginning of the novel and found the ending, in which Pamela faces the Defendant in court, emotionally resonant. However, the in-between is quite drawn out to little effect. There is a lot of repetition and extended conversations making the same point over and over again. It’s an endurance test. Perhaps Knoll is trying to drain the excitement from the story to make a point about our obsession with serial killers and true crime narratives, but the lack of a compelling alternative does her novel a real disservice. And, frankly, even this novel can’t quite escape the sensationalism trap. At it’s heart, it’s still a story about a serial killer, even if he is a nameless, faceless one.