Ella Berman’s sophomore novel arrives with the weight of expectation following her acclaimed debut “Before We Were Innocent,” and “L A Women” delivers with the precision of a perfectly timed punchline at a Hollywood party—sharp, surprising, and lingering long after the laughter dies. Set against the glittering backdrop of 1960s Los Angeles, this is a story that cuts through the golden veneer of the entertainment industry to expose the raw ambition, jealousy, and complex female friendships that simmer beneath.
The novel operates on a dual timeline that feels both contemporary and classic, shifting between the “then” of the swinging sixties and the “now” of 1975. Lane Warren, our complicated protagonist, is a successful literary journalist whose star has begun to dim. Desperate to reclaim her relevance, she’s secured a book deal based on the life of Gala Margolis—a captivating socialite, aspiring writer, and Hollywood muse who has mysteriously vanished from Los Angeles.
The Architecture of Obsession
Berman’s greatest achievement lies in her ability to construct a narrative that mirrors the very obsession it depicts. Just as Lane becomes consumed with Gala’s story, readers find themselves equally entranced by both women. The author’s prose style adapts brilliantly to match her subject matter—crisp and observational like Lane’s journalism, yet flowing with the intoxicating rhythm of Gala’s free-spirited existence.
The friendship between Lane and Gala forms the novel’s beating heart, though “friendship” might be too generous a term for their relationship. Berman captures the particular intensity of female relationships where admiration and envy intertwine so completely they become indistinguishable. Lane sees in Gala everything she lacks: natural charisma, effortless creativity, and the ability to move through the world without constantly questioning her right to space. Gala, meanwhile, recognizes Lane’s discipline and ambition as qualities she both respects and resents.
Key strengths of the narrative structure:
- The dual timeline creates mounting tension as readers understand Lane’s desperation while slowly uncovering the betrayal that destroyed their friendship
- Each chapter reveals new layers of both women’s personalities, avoiding simple categorization of victim and villain
- The supporting cast, particularly Charlie (Lane’s manager) and Scotty (her husband), feels authentically rendered rather than merely functional
The Weight of Artistic Integrity
Perhaps the novel’s most penetrating question concerns the ethics of storytelling itself. When does documenting someone’s life cross the line into exploitation? Berman doesn’t offer easy answers, instead allowing the moral complexity to breathe throughout the narrative. Lane’s justifications for writing about Gala shift constantly—sometimes she claims altruistic motives, wanting to preserve Gala’s memory properly; other times she admits to anger and betrayal driving her fingers across the typewriter keys.
The tragedy of Gabriel, Gala’s boyfriend whose overdose becomes a pivot point in both women’s lives, serves as the novel’s emotional core. Berman handles addiction and its aftermath with remarkable sensitivity, avoiding both romanticization and simple condemnation. Gabriel’s death becomes the lens through which we see how differently Lane and Gala process trauma—Lane retreating into control and calculation, Gala surrendering to chaos and pills.
Literary Craftsmanship and Historical Context
Berman demonstrates impressive command of period detail without drowning readers in research. Her 1960s Los Angeles feels lived-in rather than constructed, from the dusty Western Town backlot parties to the glossy magazine offices where Lane builds her reputation. The author clearly understands the particular pressures faced by creative women in this era—the impossible balance between maintaining femininity while claiming intellectual space traditionally reserved for men.
The novel’s exploration of the Hollywood machine feels particularly relevant in our current moment of industry reckoning. Lane’s navigation of a male-dominated literary world, where she must be simultaneously sharp enough to earn respect and charming enough to avoid being labeled difficult, resonates powerfully with contemporary discussions about women in creative industries.
Where “L A Women” by Ella Berman occasionally falters:
- Some of the supporting characters, particularly in Lane’s domestic sphere, feel slightly underdeveloped
- The resolution, while emotionally satisfying, might feel too neat for some readers given the complexity of what precedes it
- Certain plot revelations in the final act feel somewhat rushed after the careful pacing of earlier sections
The Ghost of Gala Margolis
Berman’s most impressive achievement might be her creation of Gala herself—a character who remains magnetic even in absence. As Lane becomes increasingly haunted by Gala’s memory (literally, in some striking passages), readers understand both the allure and the impossibility of truly capturing another person’s essence. Gala’s eventual reappearance in Paris provides a conclusion that feels both surprising and inevitable, suggesting that some people are simply too vital to be contained by others’ narratives.
The novel’s final image—Gala writing her own story by the Seine while Lane departs with her borrowed cigarette case—serves as a perfect metaphor for artistic ownership and the stories we tell ourselves about others versus the stories they might tell about themselves.
Literary Companions and Context
Readers who appreciated Joan Didion’s sharp observations about California culture will find much to admire here, as will fans of Taylor Jenkins Reid’s “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo” for its insider’s view of Hollywood mythology. The novel also recalls the psychological complexity of Gillian Flynn’s exploration of toxic female relationships, though Berman’s touch is ultimately more forgiving.
For those familiar with Ella Berman’s previous work, “L A Women” represents both continuity and growth. While “Before We Were Innocent” examined the aftermath of trauma, this novel delves deeper into the ways we wound each other in pursuit of our own survival and success.
Books That Share Similar DNA
- “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo” by Taylor Jenkins Reid – For its insider’s perspective on Hollywood glamour and the cost of fame
- “White Oleander” by Janet Fitch – For its lyrical portrayal of Los Angeles as both paradise and purgatory
- “Play It As It Lays” by Joan Didion – For its sharp dissection of entertainment industry culture and female alienation
- “The Glassmaker” by Tracy Chevalier – For its exploration of artistic inspiration and the tension between muse and creator
- “Writers & Lovers” by Lily King – For its honest portrayal of the struggles of female writers balancing art and survival
Final Verdict
“L A Women” by Ella Berman succeeds as both an engrossing period piece and a timeless exploration of creative ambition’s moral complexities. Berman has crafted a novel that honors the difficulty of female friendship while refusing to sentimentalize it. The book asks uncomfortable questions about the stories we tell, the people we use, and the prices we pay for artistic success.
While the novel occasionally buckles under the weight of its own ambitions—trying to be simultaneously a period piece, a psychological thriller, and a meditation on artistic ethics—Berman’s prose remains strong enough to carry readers through any structural weaknesses. The book’s greatest achievement lies in creating two flawed, fascinating women whose relationship feels both specific to their time and utterly contemporary.
For readers seeking intelligent literary fiction that doesn’t sacrifice emotional resonance for intellectual complexity, “L A Women” by Ella Berman delivers a story as intoxicating and dangerous as the city that inspired it. Like the best Hollywood stories, it leaves you questioning what’s real and what’s performance—and whether the difference matters as much as we pretend it does.
