In Liann Zhang’s razor-sharp debut thriller “Julie Chan Is Dead,” we’re thrust into a world where identity is as fluid as a perfectly filtered Instagram story. This novel about twin sisters—one alive, one dead, both equally troubled—is a wicked exploration of our social media-obsessed culture that had me turning pages faster than I could doom-scroll through TikTok.
When Julie Chan discovers her estranged twin sister Chloe Van Huusen’s lifeless body, she doesn’t call 911 (at least not immediately). Instead, she seizes the opportunity to step into her influencer sister’s glamorous life—complete with Manhattan apartment, designer clothes, and millions of adoring followers. While this premise might sound far-fetched, Zhang delivers it with such conviction that I found myself thinking: “Yeah, I’d probably do that too.”
The Perfect Crime for the Instagram Age
The brilliance of Zhang’s novel lies in its cultural relevance. In an era where we’re constantly performing versions of ourselves online, is identity theft really that different from creating a carefully curated social media persona? Julie’s transformation into Chloe feels disturbingly plausible, particularly as we learn how easily she adapts to influencer life:
“I adapt to Chloe’s career like it’s always been mine. Making videos is second nature. Taking photos is a breeze. I could write captions without thinking and email brands with my eyes closed.”
Zhang’s writing pulses with a feverish energy that mirrors our collective digital addiction. The prose is sharp and contemporary, peppered with phrases like “chronically online” and “parasocial relationship” that anchor the story firmly in our present moment. Her narrative voice is distinctly millennial/Gen Z—snarky, self-aware, and deeply conflicted about participating in a system it simultaneously criticizes and benefits from.
The Dark Heart of Influencer Culture
What begins as a straightforward identity theft thriller evolves into something far more sinister when Julie accepts an invitation to a private island retreat with Chloe’s influencer friends, known as the “Belladonnas.” It’s here that Zhang’s novel transforms from “The Talented Mr. Ripley” for the Instagram age into a full-blown cult horror story that would make Ari Aster proud.
The Belladonnas—a group of beautiful, wealthy, predominantly white influencers led by the ethereal Bella Marie Melniburg—initially appear to be the embodiment of #squadgoals. But Zhang methodically peels back their picture-perfect facades to reveal something truly monstrous underneath. The cult mechanics introduced in the island sequence are genuinely unsettling, with rituals involving mice, blood sacrifices, and some seriously questionable group dynamics.
The social commentary is deliciously barbed, particularly in scenes where the Belladonnas discuss their “hard work”:
“Sometimes I wish I were an office worker. They can clock out every day at five p.m. and live their lives. But influencers? Work, work, work. All the time, every second. People don’t know how hard it is to be us.”
Strengths That Slay
Zhang’s debut novel showcases several impressive strengths:
- Authenticity in portraying digital culture: From the mechanics of securing brand deals to the psychological toll of constant performance, Zhang clearly understands the influencer ecosystem she’s critiquing.
- Propulsive pacing: The novel moves at breakneck speed, particularly in its second half, making it nearly impossible to put down.
- Tonal control: Zhang deftly balances satire, psychological suspense, and outright horror, creating a reading experience that’s equal parts entertaining and disturbing.
- Character development: Julie’s transformation from bitter, envious nobody to confident, power-hungry somebody is unnervingly believable, even as her moral compass deteriorates.
- Dialogue that slaps: The conversations between the Belladonnas are pitch-perfect, capturing the particular blend of toxic positivity and passive aggression that permeates certain corners of social media.
When the Filters Fail
Despite its many strengths, “Julie Chan Is Dead” isn’t without flaws:
- Credibility stretches: While I was willing to suspend disbelief for much of the novel, certain elements—particularly in the cult storyline—pushed the boundaries of plausibility.
- Character clarity: Some of the Belladonnas blend together, making it occasionally difficult to distinguish between them beyond their basic archetypes.
- Tonal whiplash: The shift from psychological thriller to supernatural horror is jarring, and not all readers will appreciate the genre-bending.
- Resolution rush: The courtroom drama that concludes the novel feels somewhat rushed compared to the meticulously paced island sequence.
A Voice That Demands Attention
For a debut novelist, Zhang demonstrates remarkable confidence. Her prose is unflinching, particularly when describing the novel’s more gruesome moments (including a truly unforgettable decapitation scene). What impresses most is her ability to maintain Julie’s distinctive voice throughout—a voice that’s simultaneously self-destructive, self-aware, and self-justifying.
Julie is an antihero for our times: morally compromised yet strangely sympathetic. Even as she spirals into increasingly unhinged behavior, Zhang ensures we understand her motivations. It’s a testament to Zhang’s skill that we remain invested in Julie’s fate even as we question her actions.
The Perfect Read for the Chronically Online
“Julie Chan Is Dead” is tailor-made for readers who:
- Enjoy dark psychological thrillers with unreliable narrators
- Are fascinated by influencer culture and its darker implications
- Appreciate horror elements in their suspense fiction
- Like social commentary that doesn’t sacrifice entertainment value
If you devoured Ottessa Moshfegh’s “My Year of Rest and Relaxation,” Oyinkan Braithwaite’s “My Sister, the Serial Killer,” or Caroline Kepnes’s “You,” Zhang’s debut will likely hit your algorithm perfectly.
Final Verdict: A Killer Debut
“Julie Chan Is Dead” is a wickedly entertaining exploration of identity, influence, and the lengths we’ll go to for validation in the digital age. While it occasionally stretches credibility, Zhang’s confident prose and keen cultural observations make this a standout debut that’s impossible to scroll past.
As Julie herself might caption: Currently obsessed with this book 😍💀 #NoFilter #MustRead #TwinningIsWinning
Whether you’re chronically online or desperately trying to digital detox, Zhang’s novel offers a darkly satisfying look at the monsters we create when we’re constantly performing for an audience. Just be warned: you might find yourself checking your follower count with newfound anxiety after turning the final page.
It’s a remarkably assured debut that announces Zhang as a talent to watch. While imperfect, its strengths far outweigh its weaknesses, delivering a reading experience that’s as addictive as the endless scroll of your favorite social platform—but far more satisfying.