Ruth Ware’s The It Girl represents both a triumphant return to form and a subtle departure from her usual isolated settings. Trading the claustrophobic confines of a snowbound chalet or remote Scottish island for the hallowed halls of Oxford, Ware constructs a psychological thriller that grapples with the weight of witness testimony, the corrosive nature of guilt, and the dangerous allure of charismatic personalities.
The novel opens with Hannah Jones, now pregnant and settled in Edinburgh, receiving devastating news: John Neville, the man convicted of murdering her Oxford roommate April Clarke-Cliveden, has died in prison. What should feel like closure instead becomes the catalyst for a ten-year reckoning when journalist Geraint Williams presents evidence suggesting Neville’s innocence. Hannah’s journey back to Oxford—both literally and figuratively—becomes a masterclass in how past traumas refuse to stay buried.
The Magnetism and Toxicity of April Clarke-Cliveden
Ware’s greatest achievement lies in her portrayal of April herself. Even in death, April Clarke-Cliveden dominates every page with the kind of magnetic presence that makes her absence feel like a physical wound. The “It Girl” of the title is no mere plot device but a fully realized character whose complexity emerges through Hannah’s memories and the testimonies of those who knew her.
April is simultaneously enchanting and manipulative, generous and cruel, brilliant and careless. Ware captures the particular type of charisma that April possessed—the ability to make others feel special simply by including them in her orbit, while simultaneously keeping them uncertain of their place within it. Her relationship with Hannah reads authentically, particularly the way Hannah both resents and depends on April’s friendship, recognizing her own complicity in the toxic dynamic.
The author’s decision to structure the novel around the “before” and “after” of April’s death creates a haunting rhythm. The flashbacks to Oxford don’t merely provide backstory; they illuminate how April’s personality shaped everyone around her, creating the very conditions that would lead to her murder. This isn’t a simple case of a beautiful girl destroyed by jealousy—it’s a complex examination of how charismatic individuals can become unknowing architects of their own destruction.
Hannah’s Unreliable Journey Through Memory and Guilt
Hannah Jones emerges as one of Ware’s most compelling protagonists precisely because of her flaws. Her guilt over John Neville’s conviction creates a fascinating psychological landscape where memory becomes both sanctuary and prison. Ware excels at showing how Hannah’s working-class background made her simultaneously grateful for and resentful of April’s privileged world, creating an internal tension that drives much of the novel’s emotional authenticity.
The pregnancy subplot works on multiple levels, serving not only as a ticking clock for Hannah’s investigation but as a metaphor for the new life she’s trying to build while haunted by the past. Hannah’s relationship with Will feels genuine, particularly their arguments about whether the past should stay buried. These domestic scenes ground the thriller elements in recognizable human emotions.
However, Hannah’s character sometimes suffers from the author’s need to maintain suspense. Her occasional obtuseness about obvious connections feels manufactured rather than organic, and some of her investigative choices strain credibility. A more natural progression of her discoveries would have strengthened the narrative flow.
The Oxford Setting: Privilege, Pressure, and Secrets
Ware’s Oxford feels both mythical and suffocatingly real. The author captures the peculiar atmosphere of the university—its ancient beauty masking contemporary anxieties about class, achievement, and belonging. The contrast between Hannah’s modest background and the casual wealth of her friends creates tension that never feels forced or overstated.
The fictional Pelham College becomes a character in its own right, with its labyrinthine corridors and hidden staircases serving as perfect metaphors for the secrets the characters keep. Ware particularly excels at showing how the college’s institutional response to April’s death—the mixture of genuine grief and reputation management—reflects broader societal attitudes toward violence against women.
The author’s research into Oxford life shows throughout, from the authentic details of tutorial systems to the social hierarchies that govern student life. The academic pressure cooker environment provides believable motivation for the characters’ various deceptions and desperate choices.
The Murder Mystery: Satisfying Resolution with Emotional Complexity
The central mystery unfolds with careful pacing, though Ware occasionally telegraphs developments too clearly. The revelation of Hugh as the killer works on multiple levels—it’s both surprising enough to satisfy thriller conventions and inevitable enough to feel earned. The mechanism of the murder, with April initially playing dead as part of a prank, demonstrates Ware’s skill at creating solutions that are both clever and psychologically sound.
The final confrontation between Hannah and Hugh crackles with tension, particularly as Hannah realizes she’s pregnant and alone with a murderer. Hugh’s transformation from bumbling, harmless friend to calculating killer feels authentic rather than jarring, building naturally from seeds planted throughout the novel.
Where the mystery falters slightly is in its resolution. The reasons behind Hugh’s actions, while psychologically plausible, feel somewhat underexplored. A deeper dive into his motivations would have elevated the thriller elements to match the novel’s emotional sophistication.
Technical Craft: Ware’s Evolution as a Writer
The It Girl showcases Ruth Ware’s growing confidence with dual timelines and multiple perspectives. The “before” and “after” structure creates natural suspense while allowing for character development that feels organic rather than exposition-heavy. The author’s prose has become more assured, with fewer of the occasionally clunky transitions that marked her earlier work.
Ware’s dialogue particularly shines when capturing the different voices of her characters. April’s languid confidence, Emily’s sharp wit, and Ryan’s Yorkshire bluntness all feel distinct and authentic. The conversations between Hannah and Will about their relationship and future ring especially true, grounding the thriller elements in recognizable human concerns.
The pacing generally works well, though the middle section occasionally drags as Hannah processes the same revelations repeatedly. Some judicious editing of Hannah’s internal monologues would have tightened the narrative without losing emotional impact.
Themes of Class, Guilt, and Justice
Beyond its thriller elements, The It Girl by Ruth Ware functions as a meditation on class, privilege, and the British justice system. Hannah’s working-class background colors every interaction with her privileged friends, creating subtext that enriches the surface narrative. The novel’s exploration of how class affects perception—particularly in who gets believed and who gets suspected—adds layers of social commentary that elevate it above standard thriller fare.
The theme of guilt permeates the novel, not just Hannah’s guilt over John Neville’s conviction, but the various forms of survivor’s guilt experienced by April’s friends. Each character carries their own burden of what they might have done differently, creating a rich emotional tapestry that extends beyond the central mystery.
The novel’s treatment of the justice system feels particularly relevant to contemporary discussions about wrongful convictions and the reliability of witness testimony. Hannah’s realization that her evidence condemned an innocent man provides the emotional core that transforms a standard whodunit into something more substantial.
Comparative Analysis: Ware’s Growing Sophistication
Compared to Ruth Ware’s earlier works like In a Dark, Dark Wood and The Woman in Cabin 10, The It Girl demonstrates significant growth in character development and thematic sophistication. While her debut relied heavily on atmosphere and her follow-up on claustrophobic tension, this novel succeeds through psychological complexity and authentic relationships.
The Oxford setting allows Ware to explore themes of class and privilege more directly than her previous isolated locations permitted. The result feels more grounded in real social dynamics while maintaining the page-turning suspense that marks her best work.
Minor Criticisms and Missed Opportunities
While The It Girl by Ruth Ware succeeds admirably in most respects, it’s not without flaws. The novel’s length occasionally works against it, particularly in the middle section where Hannah’s emotional processing becomes repetitive. Some secondary characters, particularly November (April’s half-sister), feel underdeveloped given their importance to the plot.
The social media and technology elements sometimes feel awkwardly integrated, suggesting Ware is still finding her footing with contemporary digital life. The novel’s treatment of pregnancy and motherhood, while generally authentic, occasionally veers toward the sentimental.
The resolution, while satisfying, feels somewhat rushed after the careful buildup. A more extended exploration of the aftermath and its impact on all the characters would have provided greater emotional closure.
A Worthy Addition to the Psychological Thriller Canon
The It Girl stands as Ruth Ware’s most mature and emotionally complex work to date. It succeeds both as a compelling thriller and as a nuanced exploration of guilt, class, and the long shadow cast by charismatic personalities. The novel’s examination of how privilege affects justice feels particularly timely, while its emotional core prevents it from becoming merely topical.
Ware has created a psychological thriller that respects its readers’ intelligence while delivering the suspense and revelation they expect. The novel’s greatest strength lies in its understanding that the most interesting mysteries aren’t just about who committed the crime, but about how and why ordinary people become capable of both terrible acts and terrible mistakes.
For readers seeking a thriller that combines page-turning suspense with genuine emotional depth, The It Girl by Ruth Ware delivers admirably. It’s a novel that will linger in readers’ minds long after the final revelation, not just for its twists but for its compassionate exploration of human frailty and the corrosive power of unresolved guilt.
Similar Books to Consider
If you enjoyed The It Girl by Ruth Ware, consider these similar psychological thrillers:
- The Silent Companions by Laura Purcell – Gothic atmosphere with unreliable narrators
- The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman – Mystery with complex character relationships
- The Hunting Party by Lucy Foley – Isolated setting with friendship dynamics
- Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty – Domestic secrets and complex female friendships
- The Secret History by Donna Tartt – Academic setting with dark secrets and class dynamics
- Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn – Unreliable narrators and marriage under pressure
- In the Woods by Tana French – Atmospheric mystery with psychological depth
Ruth Ware continues to establish herself as a master of psychological suspense, and The It Girl represents her most accomplished work to date. It’s a novel that succeeds on multiple levels—as mystery, as social commentary, and as an exploration of the ways the past refuses to stay buried.
