Murder Bimbo

Rebecca Novack
2026
Rating: 7

To cut to the chase, you should buy and read this book. There was so much to like about it. I came out of Act 1 of Murder Bimbo thinking that, if the rest of the book was as good, it could become the definitive novel of the MAGA era. It was that good.

While the rest of the book was “merely” quite good — packed with great sentences, great observations about its characters and their relationships, razor-sharp social commentary — it did not, in my opinion, fully exploit the superb opening act.

The book’s premise — a sex worker assassinates a rising nazi politician — is brilliant; almost strong enough on its own to justify snapping up a copy. The fascism is viewed through a rigorous but breezy feminist lens, which makes the novel’s politics feel more grounded. Making the protagonist a sex worker adds a bit of titillation to the story, but also brings readers into a fascinating subculture they may not know much about.

Murder Bimbo is more than just topical, it taps into dark impulses that are probably being entertained by many Americans who dislike Nazis, swastikas, rapists, pedophiles, war crimes, concentrations camps, psychopaths, etc.

The book’s complications and ambiguities transform it from a satisfying, two-dimensional pot-boiler into something larger and more profound.

Regarding the merely good 2nd and 3rd acts, there are certain issues that I won’t tackle because I don’t want to spoil the book. The pacing in Act 1 places it solidly in “kick-ass literary page-turner” territory. The remainder of the book advances our understanding of the characters. The plot, as we understand it after Act 1, recedes somewhat. In Act 2 the writing about an important relationship bogs down, slightly and briefly.

It’s a first-person narrator, and there are epistolary elements to the story, and I think those factors wound up slightly flattening that relationship.

Much of the novel’s strength lies in the way it uses narrative structure to reveal its protagonist’s motivations. There are trade-offs that come with that decision as well, however. We wind up going through certain elements of the story twice, from different perspectives, in a way that is (intentionally) disorienting. So there is a minor redundancy that arises, and the second act somewhat diminishes the impact of the first. But only because the first was so propulsive and flawless.

Those problems aside, I liked it enough that I could see myself re-reading it down the road, and I will not be surprised if it winds up winning a slew of awards.