EVERYONE KNOWS HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU

Exploring a troubled, obsessive friendship between two young women in New York.

Whatever happened between Lacie and Rose in high school, they’re not saying—not to each other or to anyone else. They haven’t seen each other in more than a decade. Now Rose, a writer years deep into working on a novel based on their shared experience, has moved to New York and then, before either of them can catch their breath, into Lacie’s apartment. McCarthy’s debut is an utterly taut construction, as unsettling as it is propulsive. Rose narrates the novel—both in present-day scenes and in high school flashbacks—but it quickly becomes clear that she may not always make the most reliable source. Throughout, McCarthy toys with the idea of double consciousness: Rose, who scrapes together an income tutoring privileged teenagers, listens to one of her clients explain the notion this way: “It’s when you see yourself from the inside, like a normal person, but also from the outside.” As Rose digs deeper into her novel—sneaking into Lacie’s room, trying on Lacie’s clothes, hoping to gain insight for the character she’s based on Lacie—the limits of her own self-awareness become more and more clear. Meanwhile, the obsessive cast to her friendship with Lacie continues to heighten. Ironically, though, as Rose’s agent compliments her on her portrayal of the fictional Lacie, the other Lacie—the one we’re reading about—remains something of a cipher. Rose grows into one of the more complex—and, sometimes, plainly repugnant—characters of recent fiction, but Lacie, the object of her fascination, remains, for most of the novel, just that: a blank object.

McCarthy’s debut, with the acumen of the best literary fiction and the suspense of a psychological thriller, is a marvel.