Like most people of my generation — that’s GenX, for the record — most of what I know about Ted Bundy, I learned from the media and pop culture. And many of the Netflix documentaries and made-for-TV movies portray him as some kind of charismatic Casanova — a brilliant smooth-talker who charmed his victims and possibly even the judge at his sentencing, who described Bundy as a “bright young man.”
Author Jessica Knoll got angry about that. Her newest novel, “Bright Young Women,” is a fictionalized look at Bundy’s Florida State sorority house murders as well as our culture’s disturbing fascination with serial killers. Rather than focusing on the killer himself, Knoll centers her story on the bright young women he victimized.
The novel debunks much of what we think we know about Bundy. In a clever literary treatment, Knoll opts to not name him at all, referring to him throughout the novel as simply “the Defendant.” We learn that he was at best a mediocre student who barely made it into law school, and the true genius on his defense team was a female attorney assigned to the case.
Knoll tells the story from a few different timelines and points of view, the primary one being the sorority president who came face-to-face with the killer. We see how men in power often ignore or discount what women say, effectively patting them with a demoralizing, “Don’t worry your pretty little head.” But the women here are brave and relentless, and their stories propel the novel and make it much more than your average true-crime tale.
“Bright Young Women” is one of several books recently that take a feminist or at least female-centered approach to true crime, including “Notes on an Execution” and “The Five.” I hope the trend continues.
