I came across this book, incidentally, while reading reviews for It Ends With Us by Colleen Hoover. The reviewer recommended it as it also touches on the cycle of abuse in a way that isn’t as shallow. Since I was disappointed by Hoover’s work, I decided to give this one a try.
Dreamland tells the story of Caitlin. On the morning of her 16th birthday, Caitlin’s older sister, Cass, runs away with her boyfriend, Adam. At first, it’s not really clear why she’s just packed up and left, or how it’s important to the plot; she disappears in the first few pages of the book, long before getting any substantial character development.
As the story progresses, we find out that her disappearance triggers something of an existential crisis for Caitlin. For the first time in her life, she doesn’t have to follow Cass anymore. Instead, she has to start from scratch to figure out her own identity.
Early on in the story, Caitlin meets Rogerson. He’s handsome, charming, and drives a BMW—score! According to Caitlin, his olive complexion and mass of curly brown hair are what stand out to her about him the most.
Although this is Caitlin’s first time meeting Rogerson, it’s not the reader’s. Rogerson is introduced to us in the prologue of the book, where he’s described as cold, disapproving of Caitlin’s friends, impatient, and easily angered. The fact that we get a glimpse of who Rogerson really is before Caitlin does feels almost unfair to me—I felt guilty like I was keeping this dark secret. As I carried on reading, I found myself wishing I could just reach through the pages and warn her.
While Rogerson appears charming at first sight (one of Caitlin’s quotes during their first meeting reads, “he was smiling, his green eyes glittering”), looks are indeed deceiving. If you’ve read books like this one or even experienced one of these relationships yourself, you can already begin to outline Rogerson’s character arc without going past the first five chapters.
He comes off as admirable, a tactic to reel Caitlin in. But little by little, as soon as he knows he’s got Caitlin in a hold—trapped, if you will—his true colours start to show. From there on out, the cycle of abuse spirals. Caitlin describes the period right after Rogerson abuses her as the safe space, where she knows he’s going to be nice to her for at least a couple of days. This is a pattern with which many survivors of domestic violence are familiar.
The longer you keep reading, the more physical their relationship gets, and the more depressed Caitlin becomes. The most difficult part for me is trying to scratch beyond the surface of Rogerson’s character. Is he the way he is because of his own trauma? Did he see a similar abusive dynamic between his parents growing up? While it’s in no way an excuse for his abusive behaviour, it would be an interesting aspect of his character to explore.
Throughout the book, we are fed morsels of what his life outside of Caitlin is like: His dad hits him, so it’s likely that this is what he knows to be normal in a relationship. Other than that, Dessen doesn’t give us much of an explanation behind Rogerson’s actions, leaving a lot up to the reader’s interpretation. As a result, Rogerson is portrayed as a very shallow, stereotypical character. Even his abusive behaviour is glossed over, even though it’s significant to the main plot of the story.
Dreamland is nothing short of devastating. Every time I turned the page, it was like I could physically feel my heart breaking a little more. I felt a strong urge to reach through the words and pull Caitlin out of her misery for good, and somehow take her into a safe haven. Despite this, I still have a lot of mixed feelings about it. There was a lot that I enjoyed about it, like the lack of a ‘Hollywood ending’ of any sort, and how Dessen was careful not to overuse the stereotypical tropes that often pop up in other contemporary books. The only exception to this is the love story of the two main characters being a major cliché. I also think it’s really important to use mainstream media to open up discussions about heavy topics like these, which is why I especially appreciate this book.
However, I hated how some of the seemingly unimportant parts were slow-paced, but then others were very rushed. I feel like I could have gone without reading two whole chapters that go into detail on Caitlin’s sister running away to join her boyfriend at his super-specific job, even if it is kind of integral to the plot. As mentioned before, I also would have liked the author to dig deeper into Rogerson and Caitlin’s dynamic and explore the complexities of teenage domestic violence hidden between the lines.
In conclusion—this book wasn’t as disappointing as It Ends With Us after all.