Acts of Desperation by Megan Nolan
Published 2021 · 224 pages · 60,812 words · about 5 hours at an average pace · Fiction, Literary Fiction, Autofiction
How hard is Acts of Desperation to read?
Acts of Desperation scores 68 out of 100 for difficulty on ReadingRate, making it quite demanding. The score is a weighted composite of nine measures: four of how hard the prose is to parse, five of how hard the meaning is to extract.
- Vocabulary: 48 out of 100
- Nolan writes in contemporary, accessible prose drawn from the registers of ordinary Irish life — bedsits, restaurants, galleries, bus routes. Occasional flourishes like 'maudlin self-pity,' 'incandescent with rage,' and 'hyperbolically' land within common literary usage. There is no specialized jargon or archaic diction; the vocabulary sits close to The Great Gatsby in accessibility while occasionally reaching for the precise emotional word.
- Sentence structure: 57 out of 100
- Sentences frequently build through multiple embedded clauses and parenthetical self-corrections — the narrator will launch a thought, interrupt it with a qualifier, then resume, often within a single long sentence. This creates a stream of acute self-analysis rather than simple declarative prose. The complexity never approaches Jamesian hypotaxis but consistently demands more than 1984's direct sentences.
- Abstraction: 68 out of 100
- The novel moves readily from a concrete Dublin scene — buying apples on George's Street, climbing back through a bedsit window — into extended philosophical passages about the nature of victimhood, the body, love as infrastructure, and what it means to be a woman who wants to be loved. The retrospective Athens sections in particular operate almost entirely in the abstract. The balance of concrete and philosophical sits between The Great Gatsby and The Brothers Karamazov.
- Information density: 58 out of 100
- Each paragraph packs the narrator's internal monologue with emotional reasoning, memory, and self-interrogation stacked on top of the surface events. Scenes like reading Freja's email or attending the gallery opening carry multiple simultaneous currents — jealousy, self-analysis, class consciousness, gendered power. The density is psychological rather than encyclopedic, comparable to Lolita's rich texture but without its allusive scaffolding.
- Narrative indirection: 68 out of 100
- The narrator explicitly declares her unreliability — she knows she is lying to Ciaran, knows she is rationalizing, knows the difference between how events would read to others and how she feels them. Yet she still proceeds, and readers must constantly hold the gap between her stated account and the implied reality. This is less demanding than Lolita because the narrator flags her own self-deception, but more demanding than The Great Gatsby because the gap is internal rather than perspectival.
- Symbolic density: 65 out of 100
- The amber brooch Ciaran gives her for Christmas — warm in her palm on the bus home, described as throbbing like a living thing — becomes the novel's central symbol of false promise and self-deception, later bitterly recalled. Ciaran's 'stillness' recurs as a motif for his emotional inaccessibility. The narrator's body operates symbolically throughout: alternately site of worship and site of damage. The symbolism is present and purposeful but never overwhelms the realist surface.
- Ironic distance: 75 out of 100
- A sustained ironic gap separates what the narrator claims to feel from what the reader observes in the events she describes. She interprets Ciaran's cruelty as complexity, his indifference as depth, his controlling behavior as the inevitable cost of loving someone exceptional. The Athens sections provide retrospective commentary that partly acknowledges this gap, but even there the narrator maintains defenses. The reader must supply the judgment the narrator withholds.
- Resolution withholding: 80 out of 100
- The central relationship with Ciaran ends definitively and violently, but the novel's psychological questions — what made her stay, whether she has changed, what she will do next — remain explicitly open. The final line, 'That would follow,' is deliberate non-resolution: the narrator has escaped the relationship but not yet constructed a new self. The Athens sections reveal she is still cycling through the same patterns six months later. The ending is ambiguously hopeful rather than closed.
- Structural complexity: 72 out of 100
- The novel interleaves two timelines: the Dublin relationship with Ciaran, narrated in short numbered chapters, and retrospective sections labeled '2019, Athens' that offer fragmentary commentary on the same events and their aftermath. Chapter numbering resets multiple times as the narrative moves through different phases, requiring readers to actively orient themselves. The structural interruption is purposeful — the Athens sections destabilize the linear momentum and complicate any sense that the narrator has achieved distance or clarity.
How Acts of Desperation is regarded
Acts of Desperation holds a literary regard score of 37 out of 100, weighing its place in the canon, its critical reception, its influence on other writers, and the standing of its author. Regard is measured separately from difficulty: a demanding book is not necessarily an admired one.