With I Have Some Questions for You, Rebecca Makkai returns after the Pulitzer-nominated triumph of The Great Believers to deliver a literary mystery steeped in memory, cultural obsession, and the perils of half-remembered truths. At its surface, this novel presents a familiar premise: a woman revisits the boarding school of her youth, only to confront a cold case murder that shaped her past. But beneath the expected tropes lies a deft interrogation of narrative ownership, systemic bias, and the slipperiness of justice.
And yet—this isn’t just a whodunit. It’s a meditation on the commodification of tragedy, the ethics of true crime fandom, and the disturbing ease with which society moves on.
Plot Overview: Unburying the Dead Girl
Bodie Kane, a podcast host and film professor, returns to teach a mini-course at Granby, the elite New Hampshire boarding school she once attended. Granby is both prestigious and haunted—its silence thickened by the long-unsolved murder of Bodie’s roommate, Thalia Keith, back in 1995.
Though athletic trainer Omar Evans was convicted of the crime, the details never sat right. As Bodie guides her students through podcasting projects, one of them chooses to investigate Thalia’s murder. That choice cracks open the past—through YouTube recordings of high school musicals, online conspiracy threads, courtroom transcripts, and the tightly managed histories of elite institutions.
As Bodie gets drawn into the case she never meant to revisit, her own memories prove to be as fallible as the institutions she once trusted. Her inner monologue—often directed at a shadowy figure from her past—is the novel’s moral axis, asking: What did we overlook? What did we allow? And who do we protect when we stay silent?
Characters: Flawed, Human, and Chillingly Real
Bodie Kane
Makkai crafts Bodie as a sharply intelligent, observant narrator—self-aware yet slippery. Her interiority is vividly alive with contradictions: feminist but hesitant, confident in her research yet uncertain about her memory. There’s a quiet desperation to her narration, especially in the way she addresses “you”—a figure who emerges later with devastating implication. Bodie is not an unreliable narrator so much as an unwilling one, caught between what she suspects and what she can bear to believe.
Thalia Keith
Thalia, the archetypal “dead girl,” is rendered not through her own voice but through fragments: VHS clips, yearbook photos, campus whispers. And that’s precisely the point. Makkai critiques the way society mythologizes murdered women, turning them into metaphors and cautionary tales rather than granting them full personhood. As Bodie tries to remember who Thalia really was, we see just how fragile memory is, especially when sculpted by trauma.
Omar Evans
The convicted man—Black, working-class, convenient. Makkai presents his conviction as less about evidence and more about ease: a suspect who fit the narrative. His presence in the novel is quiet but damning, a reminder of systemic failures that prefer resolution over truth.
Supporting Cast
From Fran (Bodie’s loyal best friend and voice of levity) to the vibrant Gen Z students crafting their podcasts, the ensemble feels layered and real. Makkai’s experience in character crafting—evident in her past work—is on full display here.
Narrative Technique: A Story Told in Whispers and Wounds
Makkai’s prose is elegant without being ornamental. There’s a cool restraint to her language—more surgical than sensational—which is precisely what gives it its sting. The novel’s structure, divided into themed chapters (each named after a character or narrative thread), is a masterclass in pacing and layering.
Her decision to address the narrative to “you”—an unnamed figure gradually revealed—invites readers into an intimacy that borders on complicit. We’re not just observers; we’re participants in the moral calculus. Makkai doesn’t spoon-feed. She implicates.
The use of digital ephemera—comment sections, podcasts, viral theories—blends old-school mystery with modern obsession. The internet is not just a setting; it’s a character. An echo chamber. A courtroom without rules.
Themes: More Than Just a Murder Mystery
1. The Ethics of True Crime
“I Have Some Questions for You” confronts the parasitic pleasure society takes in violent stories, particularly those involving young, white, dead girls. Makkai skewers the Dateline-ification of tragedy while also acknowledging her own participation in that culture—as a consumer, a creator, and a woman trying to make sense of what was never sensibly resolved.
2. Institutional Gaslighting
Granby, the boarding school, becomes a stand-in for every elite institution that silences the marginalized to protect its legacy. Through layers of lawsuit mentions, archived media, and administration doublespeak, the novel exposes how power shapes truth.
3. Memory and Subjectivity
Bodie’s shifting recollections serve as a metacommentary on the unreliability of perspective. Memory isn’t a camera—it’s a sieve. And what we choose to remember (or forget) often serves our survival.
4. Gender and Violence
There’s a sharp feminist current running through this novel. Makkai explores how girls learn to internalize suspicion, how their bodies are often treated as crime scenes, and how complicity often wears the mask of silence.
Strengths: Where the Book Shines
- Elegant but unflinching prose that avoids melodrama and sentimentality.
- Innovative narrative form, combining the modern (podcasts, YouTube) with classical investigative fiction.
- Rich character development, especially in Bodie’s evolution from reluctant visitor to morally shaken investigator.
- Ethical depth—Makkai refuses easy answers, instead probing the gray zones of justice and memory.
- Relevance to contemporary culture: cancel culture, institutional negligence, and performative feminism all come under the microscope.
Critiques: Where the Book Falters
Despite its many strengths, I Have Some Questions for You is not without imperfections:
- Pacing Dips
- Part II occasionally loses the narrative urgency built in Part I. The legal and procedural sections are well-researched but slow the rhythm, particularly for readers expecting a more propulsive thriller.
- Over-intellectualization
- At times, the novel leans heavily into its own self-awareness. Bodie’s inner monologues, rich and cerebral, may alienate readers seeking a more visceral mystery. The literary tone, while masterful, risks becoming clinical.
- Resolution Ambiguity
- Some readers may feel unsatisfied by the ending’s moral murkiness. Makkai doesn’t deliver a classic “gotcha” moment, and while this aligns with the novel’s thematic intent, it may frustrate fans of the genre’s traditional catharsis.
Comparison: Other Books That Resonate
If you found I Have Some Questions for You compelling, you may also appreciate:
- The Secret History by Donna Tartt – for the elite-academic setting and moral ambiguity
- The Likeness by Tana French – for its literary approach to crime and memory
- True Crime Story by Joseph Knox – for a metafictional take on murder and storytelling
- Long Bright River by Liz Moore – for its blend of social critique and gripping mystery
- Rebecca Makkai’s own The Great Believers – for her signature style: emotionally resonant, socially aware, and narratively intricate
Final Verdict: A Mystery That Haunts More Than It Solves
Rebecca Makkai has written more than a novel; she’s written a reckoning. I Have Some Questions for You is not only a compelling mystery but a cultural critique, a portrait of a woman navigating the ethics of memory, and a sobering reminder that justice is not synonymous with truth.
“I Have Some Questions for You” is a book for readers who prefer questions over answers, complexity over clarity, and stories that mirror the ambiguity of real life. It’s not about solving the case—it’s about unearthing what it means to carry the weight of unsolved things.
A gorgeously written, emotionally layered mystery that resists tidy conclusions and dares to ask what stories we tell to protect ourselves.
