Tag Archives: Witty

A Deadly Education By Naomi Novik (Review By Lily P. ’27)

A Deadly Education (The Scholomance, #1)A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I came into A Deadly Education without very high expectations, since I’ve been told people found this “boring,” but I cannot express how much I enjoyed this book. While I do agree that there is plenty of info-dumping (which probably makes up 50% of the book), I thoroughly enjoyed it, as it mimicked a train of thought that suited the narration. I found the elements of the magic system and the worldbuilding to be quite well done: while I admit it was excessive at times, it helped me disconnect from reality for some time, as all good fantasies tend to do.

I am a total sucker to all things with a magic school involved, and the Scholomance did not disappoint. Novik used quite a different approach from the usual magic academies – the Scholomance is a school that appears evil, with hoards of monsters ready to tear apart the students. This school isn’t trying to be what it’s not. In a way, it has its own personality, and its goal is to be as aggravating and dangerous to the students as possible. While it kills many students, the school’s method also helps train the rest and acclimate the strongest to the real world. It’s survival of the fittest.

Speaking of the fittest, take our main girl, Galadriel or El. The unique characters were by far my favorite parts of the book. They might at first seem unlikable or naive, but as the story progresses, these characters and their interactions with others are golden. El is moody, antagonistic, and relatively unfriendly, and her slightly ominous personality seeps into the narration. However, it becomes quite clear that underneath gloomy and slightly obnoxious exterior, El is brave, thoughtful, and caring, more than she herself would care to admit. She empathizes with people despite her best efforts to remain aloof, and she understands what it’s like to be at the bottom of the food chain. However, she also knows that she alone can do nothing to truly bring change. El goes through a serious mental shift when she reassesses her goals and morals, and if I go on more I’ll probably spoil the beautiful thought dumps she has. Trust me, it’s heartwarming. There’s nothing better than a character whom you feel for deeply, and I’m happy to say that El truly became a protagonist I could cheer for.

(Side note–this book does a pretty decent exploration of the elite and the underprivileged and all the interactions between these two pretty distinct groups. It has that conflict central to dark academia but in a more lighthearted tone and setting. So if you’re interested in that, definitely check this out!)

Another character I loved was our shining hero, Orion Lake, who goes around saving the day and pretty much messing up the whole balance of the school. While at first he appears clueless and naive, his banter with Galadriel rivals that of the best romance novels. Their relationship progresses rather slowly, but it’s that background burn that always hits different. They’re just so awkward and endearing. I love it. In addition to our two mains, Galadriel makes more friends and forms a found family that genuinely supports one another in a way quite rare in the cutthroat academy. Their whole little group are such cinnamon rolls.

This isn’t a perfect book. The narration drags on sometimes, the explanations are a little confusing at times, and the plot is a little nonexistent. But even with these characteristics, I thoroughly enjoyed A Deadly Education.

Be warned–don’t expect a complex plot when going into this book. In fact, I’d say that the dark academia vibes and actual worldbuilding took a big priority over plot (if it exists). If you’re someone who is all about fast-paced books without too much convoluted explanation or prefer intrinsically likable characters, maybe stray away from this book. But if anything else from this review sounded like it might be up your alley, I’d strongly recommend you check this book out!

BTW, thanks for listening to my ranting. I appreciate you! 🙂 —Review by Lily P. ’27

View all my reviews

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton (Review by Trisha I. ’24)

The House of MirthThe House of Mirth by Edith Wharton
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

You’re a young woman living in the big city. You go to social events, despite some introverted qualms, partly to get some social currency and mostly to meet your charming, lovely friends. You like shopping for new clothes, even if you can’t afford them, because they’re pretty (and your peers expect you to). You like this one boy that you really aren’t supposed to like. What could be more human that?

To me, the saddest thing about Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth is that, reading it a century after it was written, I could still deeply understand the seemingly shallow yet nuanced societal flaws the novel depicts.

Spoiler alert: You are Lily Bart, the protagonist, and you’re desperately trying to stay financially afloat in New York as the stock markets begin to jump around a little too wildly and the allowance your aunt gives you drains a little too fast. The House of Mirth charts your path after you turn 29 and realizes that the only socially acceptable solution to your financial problems is finding a husband. However, you are attracted to a penniless lawyer rather than the wealthy stock market brokers and other gentlemen who could actually support you in a stable, if boring, future.

The novel’s premise isn’t what makes it relatable, of course; times have changed, and marriage is no longer a woman’s end goal in life. Yet, as Lily sets about her wearying task of finding a rich and dull suitor, she grapples with a subtle snowballing of rumors, backstabbing fair-weather friends, and misunderstanding after misunderstanding that threatens her good name and prospect—and that kind of awkwardness is understandable to the reader.

The consequences Lily faces are bizarrely large in their scope and a consequence of the stricter times she lives in, but what she goes through is ultimately universal. Everyone knows the pain of a lost friendship or the disorienting feeling of having said just the wrong thing to shut down a conversation without knowing.

Wharton’s writing is at its most poetic when writing dialogue, which is just a slew of verbal irony: in an era of glitz and affected lifestyles, no character means what they say. Each conversation challenged me with its subtext. In one powerfully-executed scene, Lily realizes that one character whom she’d previously looked down upon no longer needs her help nor will help her.

With one passionate speech and sparse language, Wharton depicts Lily’s conflicting feelings of shock, regret, acceptance, and sense of dignity. That’s one scene of many that frustrates me with its sadness but stuns me with its simplicity. If you’re looking for a somber but thought-provoking and relatable read, this is the novel for you. —Review by Trisha I. ’24

View all my reviews

The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune (Review by James B. ’24)

The House in the Cerulean SeaThe House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

T.J. Klune’s The House in the Cerulean Sea is a comforting tale of an orphanage for magical children, although it isn’t an orphanage because no one goes there to adopt. What initially appears to be a light-hearted criticism of the corporate machine becomes a bright story of found family and finding your place in a world who would very much not like you around.

Most remarkable about the book is the ease with which it builds the world around the story. From only the first few pages you already know that this is a world in which magical creatures are not uncommon, but oppressed. Magical children are abandoned in “orphanages” overseen by a corporate giant. Our protagonist is Linus Baker, a caseworker at DICOMY given a top secret case by the Extremely Upper Management. It is on this case that Linus meets Arthur Parnassus, the Headmaster of an orphanage housing the six-year-old anti-christ, Lucy. It is this boy as well as many others that, despite the fact that they aren’t human, teach Linus about humanity.

I very much enjoyed this book, although I was under the incorrect pretense that it was a Queer romance first and adventure second. The romance is there, but it is far overshadowed by the odd but lovable found-family and delve into everyday oppression. Each child earns their own heart-warming spotlight, and as V. E. Schwab’s testimony on the cover says, it is indeed like being wrapped in a big gay blanket.

I don’t have any specific complaints about the book, as I’m aware that I went into it with the wrong idea of what it would be, so keep in mind that while there are elements of romance, I would not call it a romance. Either way, it’s a very fun title to add to your shelf and the characters are extremely well-done. Even though I found it underwhelming, I will be reading more T. J. Klune in the future because I fell in love with his style. —Review by James B. ’24

View all my reviews

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (review by Anya W. ’20)

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (Simonverse, #1)Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I’d looked at this book a few times before, and rejected it because the summary seemed a bit flat, but then the release of the film rekindled my interest, and I was thrilled to find the novel on overdrive. Once I finally got to reading it I did not regret my decision.

Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda, is sweet romance shaken up with a healthy dose of teen angst and youthful irresponsibility. Abertalli tells a tale of staying in, coming out, and ultimately finding oneself. It was a great read for a sunny day. -Anya W. ’20

View all my reviews

Nietzsche and the ‘Burbs (review by Sophia G. ’21)

Nietzsche and the BurbsNietzsche and the Burbs by Lars Iyer
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I just finished the book Nietzsche and the ‘Burbs by Lars Iyer. Overall I enjoyed it, however, sometimes the main characters were far too edgy for me. They often lament life rather than embrace it, rejecting the concept of amor fati that the real Nietzsche held so close to heart. The book is about a suburbian band of British misfits who try and make music to escape their boring lives as well as adventuring to entertain themselves. Most of the plot points, relationships, parties, whatever, are pretty normal for the YA genre, however I find they are handled with far more poetic prose. If you enjoy long flowing sentences and sardonic humor as I do, then you probably will like this book. If you aren’t a fan of some what emo main characters, I would avoid. Overall, it’s a well written and very original look at the coming of age genre, with some lovely turns and twists. -Sophia G. ’21

View all my reviews

World and Town by Gish Jen (review by Andrew R. ’17)

World and TownWorld and Town by Gish Jen
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Gish Jen is a wittier Amy Tan: her novels and stories, usually told through the perspective of first- or second-generation Chinese immigrants to America, fearlessly tackle religious issues, the mystery of death, and the folly of American culture, all without forsaken the signature lightness and incisiveness of her prose. World and Town is split into five narrative sections. One follows Sophy Chung, the daughter of Cambodian immigrants, who takes refuge in fundamentalist Christianity to escape her past sins; another follows Everett, the scorned and scornful backwoods lover of a born-again evangelist. The majority of the book, though, is from the perspective of Hattie (Hăi dì) Kong, an aging immigrant whose existence in the Southern town of Riverlake is somehow more American than any of its native inhabitants. As Hattie struggles with her religion and heritage (and messes with those of her neighbors—she can’t help herself), Riverlake becomes so vivid and complex that it feels as real as life to the reader, and sometimes realer. While Sophy’s and Everett’s narrative voices were not always convincing, World and Town was as a whole engaging, even addictive. Strongly recommended for readers who enjoy having their beliefs challenged and their prejudices called out. – Andrew R. ’17

View all my reviews

The Return of Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse (review by Andrew R. ’17)

The Return of Jeeves: A Jeeves and Bertie NovelThe Return of Jeeves: A Jeeves and Bertie Novel by P.G. Wodehouse
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

These days, nearly half a century after the death of P. G. Wodehouse and twice that long since his first books were published, readers tend to remember only one subset of his canon: the Jeeves and Wooster novels, which follow bumbling young aristocrat Bertie and his suave, brilliant butler Jeeves as they dodge the salvos of undesirable jobs (and occasional death threats) hurled at them by Bertie’s overbearing aunts. Well, Wodehouse is worthy of plenty of complimentary adjectives—he’s witty, endearing, and well-paced, to start—but “versatile” isn’t one of them. In The Return of Jeeves, Bertie is off on vacation, so Jeeves has been left to take care of Bill Towcester (pronounced “Toaster”), a bumbling young aristocrat with overbearing female relatives. Sound familiar? And yet, despite the fact that nothing in the plot marks a radical departure from the Jeeves and Wooster pattern, the narrative feels uncomfortable and clunky, more like a Wodehouse impersonator than Wodehouse himself. The humorist is exceedingly good at toying with the same characters in the same situations and same settings, but, as I was disappointed to discover, he has trouble with even the slightest variations on his trademark theme. – Andrew R. ’17

View all my reviews

Cabbages and Kings by O. Henry (review by Andrew R. ’17)

Cabbages and KingsCabbages and Kings by O. Henry
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

You’ve probably heard of O. Henry, the early twentieth-century American author of countless humorous short stories. And the phrase “cabbages and kings” will ring a bell to anyone who’s familiar with Lewis Carroll’s nonsense poems. (One of his most famous, “The Walrus and the Carpenter,” promises to tell the story of “shoes and ships and sealing-wax / And cabbages and kings.”) But you’ve almost certainly never heard them in combination, since Henry’s collection of closely interrelated short stories has not had nearly as much staying power since its 1904 publication as, for instance, “The Ransom of Red Chief” or “The Gift of the Magi” From barbers and tintypists (a hopelessly outdated profession) to diplomats and politicians, ninety percent of the characters populating the stories’ setting, a fictional South American village called Coralio, are American; Henry seeks to satirize supposedly autonomous twentieth-century Caribbean states, whose kings, in reality, had about as much power as cabbages. Cabbages and Kings, like the nonsensical poem that inspired it, doesn’t have much to offer beyond the mildly amusing nonsense of its stories, but any O. Henry fans are still welcome to seek it out on the Harker Library’s Overdrive page in the Project Gutenberg section. – Andrew R. ’17

View all my reviews

Aunts Aren’t Gentleman b P.G. Wodehouse (review by Andrew R. ’17)

Aunts Aren't Gentlemen (Jeeves, #15)Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen by P.G. Wodehouse
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

In Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen, Bertie Wooster and his butler Jeeves, the heroes of fourteen preceding Jeeves and Wooster novels, find themselves embroiled (as usual) in several ridiculous conflicts, all thanks to the meddling of Bertie’s overbearing Aunt Dahlia (also as usual). Not only does Aunt Dahlia want Bertie to sabotage a horse-race so she can beat her rivals in a bet, she also wants him to kidnap a cad from under the nose of one of his many ex-fiancées, Vanessa Cook—who, incidentally, is currently engaged to a brawny Communist with a violent temper who is all too eager to turn Bertie inside out if he catches him in the same room as his lover. Anyone who’s enjoyed more than one or two Wodehouse novels will have noticed that they all follow the same formula; the author discovered early on that mixing one aunt, one fumbling narrator, two to three marriage proposals, and at least five aggressive, beefy rivals will always result in comedy. But even though Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen is nothing new, it showcases Wodehouse’s signature wit and cheekiness—and, in the end, isn’t that all that really matters in a Jeeves and Wooster novel? – Andrew R. ‘17

View all my reviews

The Trials of Renegade X by Chelsea M. Campbell (review by Monica K. ’14)

The Trials of Renegade X (Renegade X, #2)The Trials of Renegade X by Chelsea M. Campbell
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The Trials of Renegade X by Chelsea Campbell continues soon after the first novel left off, as Damien tries to become a full hero. Obstacles include his snarky personality, a girlfriend at Vilmore, and an emerging villainous superpower. Having the same themes as the first book, the sequel emphasizes family relationships and the letterism of Golden City society. The narration also retains Damien’s witty voice and many elements from the first. Towards the end some plot points were a bit too familiar, but overall the story was clever, fun, and heartwarming. Fans of The Rise of Renegade X would definitely enjoy the sequel. – Monica K. ‘14

View all my reviews