A review by rara2018
Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion by Jia Tolentino

5.0

Reading this book literally felt like looking into a mirror at times. From the very first essay (that convinced me to delete all social media that night in a fit of panic about wasting my life away), I was hooked. “The I in Internet” was fascinating to read as someone who genuinely does not remember a time before ~semi~ high speed network connection and the ways social media has been used to connect everyone. The capitalist hellscape social media has become has recently made it more difficult for me to spend time online. Recently on a very brief work trip, I somehow became aware of the onslaught of covert TikTok shop videos that popped up over and over and over again on my feed no matter how many accounts I blocked. This first essay set the tone of a series of essays I was destined to love. “Reality TV Me” was probably the least relatable, mostly from my general unfamiliarity with reality TV other than cooking shows or HGTV, but was still an interesting exploration of self, and it also felt very tied into social media in ways. “Always Be Optimizing” was deeply familiar but also, like it’s predecessor, fairly dissimilar to my own experiences as someone who is not particularly ambitious and loves to take every second of break time I am allotted. That being said, the commentary on the optimization of “woman” and the historical overview of the world of Barre was something I could absolutely revisit. The next essay, “Pure Heroines”, was easily my favorite of the bunch as it was something I’ve thought of millions of times in my life, though not in such eloquent words. The examination of literature and the frequent brutalization of women in adult fiction when compared to the charming vivacity and tenaciousness of their children’s counterparts is jarring, as is the cultural difference between fiction, and women’s fiction, and fiction by people of cover and the perceived narrowness of each sectors audience. As a child who only identified as religious for the briefest of moments in order to curb anxiety, “Ecstasy” was not something I connected to so much as it was a genuinely well-written and thoughtful essay. “The Story of a Generation in Seven Scams” felt like the most conversational history lesson ever. As someone who is very much not a millennial (despite trying to convince myself I was one when I was a freshman in high school), this felt like getting the best possible peek into that demographic. The scams were incredibly well researched and despite the fact that I have definitely lived through all of these, many I had not really heard of or understood the gravity of—and their interconnectedness—until reading this. “We Come From Old Virginia” was awful but so important to read. It encapsulated the emotions I think so many women grapple with when faced with these kinds of stories on a regular basis and the societal responses to them. The second to last essay, “The Cult of the Difficult Woman” was a really captivating exploration of modern day feminism and the power dynamics present within our society and the in at Ed’s of being complicit in this behavior as a woman engaging with media . I did feel especially seen with the very last paragraph in which Tolentino expresses the lifelong dread associated with Clinton losing in 2016, something that despite me being 15 at the time, I—and the long ago posts on my tumblr—deeply resonate with. Tolentino’s final essay in this collection, “I Thee Dread”, was one I hadn’t expected to relate to so heavily. I’ve often been disillusioned by the concept of marriage and am adamant I will never change my last name nor will I, if I ever have kids, not give them my last name in at least some capacity. I learned so much here about the evolution of weddings, especially since I hadn’t realized just how modern basically every one of these “traditions” are. I’ve only been to two weddings since I’ve reached adulthood, and I felt similarly teary at both despite only being tangentially connected to both couples. This essay collection is marked by Jia Tolentino’s distinct and relatable voice that manages to both be insightful and humorous and somber all within less than one hundred pages. I think I’ll literally read anything she writes (and I did briefly redownload Instagram just so I could follow her). Truly no other work of nonfiction has felt this much like a conversation I’d have with my friends, but significantly more researched. Finally, because I’m feeling especially pretentious right now, I dedicate this review to my friend Cristina for giving me the opportunity to become an even more annoying and combative version of myself.