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The premise of this novel is brilliant: "Penance" tells the story of three girls who murder their 16-year-old classmate Joan by torturing her and then setting her on fire, but the whole thing is presented as a highly controversial book by a shady (and thus: unreliable) journalist named Alec Z. Carelli who unscrupulously exploits the true crime trend for his financial gain, ethics be damned. What the text aims to do is to illuminate how true crime appeals to the lowest urges in consumers of topical media like podcasts, message boards, fanfic communities, but also classical print, audiovisual and digital media. Clark wants to write about all of us by vividly dissecting the gruesome details of a (fictional) murder case and the darkest corners of human minds - a worthwhile endeavor. I also applaud her for taking an experimental road by incorporating styles of different media and various forms of communication, all presented as the final product of the narrator's messed-up reporting.

But alas, the novel is just way, way too long: Readers easily get what Clark is going for here, what her message will be and that the details (who of the three girls did what exactly) basically do not matter for the impact of the story. Also, there is no definitive why, which makes sense as the author seems heavily influenced by the psychology of and public fascination with school shooters, especially Columbine (check out Cullen's nonfiction account Columbine, it's excellent). What would render the text successful as an aesthetically forward piece is the integration of its text forms and perspectives to a stringent whole which flows somewhat smoothly. And this is my biggest critique: The centrifugal forces of the material rip the book apart, and the pieces keep meandering off, forcing me to come along, away from the central story line.

Clark has structured the novel in five parts: The introductory epigraph, then the stories of Angelica, Violet, and Dolly who become murderers, then a section about another girl who was initially incorrectly suspected to be one of the perpetrators, and at last the aftermath, focusing again on the narrator. And as this is criticizing true crime, the victim, Joan, plays a rather insignificant role in the depiction of her own death: It's the "monsters" that generate clicks (need an antidote? here you go: Notes on an Execution). There is a lot in here from internet boards, and podcast excerpts, and media coverage, and interviews the narrator conducts, and reconstructions he writes that are clearly their own form of fiction. Everything happens on the day before Brexit in a struggling (and fictional) coastal town in North Yorkshire, but the political climate plays a minor role: It's more about social dynamics in school, about family backgrounds, and the strife for recognition as experienced by teenagers.

While I especially appreciated how Clarke presented unregulated areas of the internet where serial killers and violence in general are sources for fanfiction and rabbit holes offer unstable minds plenty of opportunities to lose grip on reality, I have to admit that during the first half of this long novel, I really struggled to keep my interest. There is not enough narrative discipline, and there is too much material for what the plot and the message would merit. Eliza Clark still remains a fascinating talent and I'm curiously awaiting her next effort.