The theme of memory—or the lack of it in the face of shame—is hinted at from the first words of the novel, as it opens with: “Your body has a knowing. Like an antenna, attuned to tremors in the air, or a dowsing rod, tracing things so deeply buried you have no language for them yet” (1). Jessica may not remember her actions from the night Heather died, but these words imply that her body does. The following few hundred pages tease out this knowing as Jessica’s memory of Heather’s murder finally becomes clear, and she accepts the part she played.

The title—In My Dreams I Hold a Knife—hints at the dream-like quality of Jessica’s fragmented memories as she tries to reconcile the revenge fantasies she imagined with the truth she’s hidden from herself about what happened that night. “I wanted her to die. I remember thinking it. Picturing it” (248), she tells Coop, convinced she’s the murderer. As the novel progresses, and layers of memory are peeled back like an onion, Jessica is slowly able to face the shame she carries, which stems from her father’s substance abuse and the pressure he placed on her to fix their family through success and academic achievement.