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A review by ryleee
Lola in the Mirror by Trent Dalton
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.25
If I wasn't reading this for book club, this probably would have been a DNF... This attempted to present some large and important themes (domestic violence, homelessness, addiction), but I felt as though it just trivialised these topics, reducing them to gaudy one-liners (Tyrannosaurus Waltz, Tyrant Lizard), or only superficially reflecting (throwaway sentences about the impact of the 2032 Olympics on those without stable housing, or the incredibly brief mention of settler violence in the opening-ceremony-bit). It tried to be a window (or... a mirror) into everything, and in doing so, became an empty view.
The main character doesn't develop at all, despite experiencing a kaleidoscope of traumas. She seems to bounce from one horror into the next without even a glance in the rear-view. The plot does develop, but only through the most whip-lash-inducing twists that are so unbelievable that it's incompatible with the hyper-real setting that the author spends every second word reiterating. There always seems to be someone or something that arrives for the narrator at exactly the right time, so she is able to avoid self-reflection entirely. The only remotely likeable character is Charlie.
The entire 'Danny' sub-plot is borderline elitist. I'm not sure if the author was intending this character to be ironic? I can't even describe my dislike of his storyline. Charlie sums it up perfectly on pages 338-9. It's skimmed over but the narrator stalks Danny. For a book that is so vocal about domestic violence, this was a double standard for me.
Perhaps I took this book too literally. There are some segments that are solid. It invokes some emotion, mainly through the ancillary characters. I wish it focused more on the narrator's internal journey.
The main character doesn't develop at all, despite experiencing a kaleidoscope of traumas. She seems to bounce from one horror into the next without even a glance in the rear-view. The plot does develop, but only through the most whip-lash-inducing twists that are so unbelievable that it's incompatible with the hyper-real setting that the author spends every second word reiterating. There always seems to be someone or something that arrives for the narrator at exactly the right time, so she is able to avoid self-reflection entirely. The only remotely likeable character is Charlie.
The entire 'Danny' sub-plot is borderline elitist. I'm not sure if the author was intending this character to be ironic? I can't even describe my dislike of his storyline. Charlie sums it up perfectly on pages 338-9. It's skimmed over but the narrator stalks Danny. For a book that is so vocal about domestic violence, this was a double standard for me.
Perhaps I took this book too literally. There are some segments that are solid. It invokes some emotion, mainly through the ancillary characters. I wish it focused more on the narrator's internal journey.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Domestic abuse, Drug abuse, Gun violence, Trafficking, Kidnapping, Death of parent, Murder, Abandonment, and Alcohol
Moderate: Sexual assault and Suicidal thoughts
Minor: Child abuse, Torture, Forced institutionalization, and Fire/Fire injury