If you ever wished Hogwarts had teeth, Scholomance will bite. Naomi Novik’s A Deadly Education drops readers into a sentient, teacherless school where students study, scheme, and try not to be eaten on the way to breakfast. It is equal parts dark academia, survival thriller, and snarky character study, powered by a heroine who would rather hex your toaster than accept your help.
The setup
Galadriel El Higgins is half British, half Indian, and fully allergic to being liked. Her magical affinity skews catastrophically dark. Even simple spells tilt toward mass-casualty outcomes, which makes making friends complicated and keeping her conscience intact even harder. At Scholomance, alliances are currency and graduation requires running a monster gauntlet. Enter Orion Lake, a golden-boy hero who slays mals like other kids pop zits. He keeps saving El. She hates that she needs it. Their reluctant orbit becomes the book’s beating heart.
Voice first, world second
This is a first person, voice driven novel with attitude for miles. El’s narration is spiky, funny, and often fatalistic. Expect extended riffs, spats of world explanation mid peril, and jokes that land in the middle of grisly set pieces. If you like prickly heroines who use sarcasm as body armor, El is a delight. If you prefer spare prose and minimal exposition, the frequent info dumps may test your patience.
Novik’s world building is impressively systemic. Magic works through language. Power accrues through enclaves that hoard safety and resources. The school itself operates like a predatory ecosystem, constantly forcing students to weigh risk against reward. Much of the fun is watching how the rules interlock. Much of the friction is having those rules explained while something with far too many teeth is skittering under a cafeteria table.
El and Orion: enemies, allies, not quite lovers
El is a chronic loner who wants to be valued for herself, not her utility. Orion is a privileged bulldozer of virtue who cannot stop saving people. Put them together and you get Megara meets Hercules. Their banter is sharp, their dynamic is charming, and their growth feels earned. He learns that heroics without strategy can create new problems. She learns that shutting everyone out is its own kind of curse. The slow thaw is one of the book’s biggest pleasures.
What the book does well
- A fresh take on the magic school. No faculty, no house points, no safety nets. The Scholomance is a problem set that fights back, and the graduation concept is a terrific engine for tension.
- A morally thorny heroine. El resists the narrative that she must become either savior or monster. Her choices, not her prophecy, define her.
- Class and privilege. The enclave system lets Novik explore how power hoards safety while everyone else pays the cost. It is one of the series’ most compelling through lines.
- Monster design with bite. The creatures are inventive, gross, and staged for maximum yikes. Several sequences flirt with horror in very satisfying ways.
What may not work for you
- Exposition volume. El digresses. Often. Some readers will find the encyclopedic asides immersive. Others will feel the brakes pump right when the action heats up.
- YA vibe. The characters read and behave like teens under extreme pressure. If you want adult epic fantasy atmospherics, calibrate expectations.
- Narrow emotional register. The narration’s snark can flatten moments that could have reached for awe or tenderness. The book is funniest when it lets vulnerability leak through.
About the controversy
A Deadly Education sparked discussion upon release, particularly around a passage that singled out dreadlocks in a way many readers found harmful. Novik publicly apologized and committed to removing or revising the wording in future printings. Readers also debated the book’s handling of language and cultural depiction. Two broad perspectives emerged in the reader community:
- In defense: Some argue the contentious moments reflect El’s cynical, combative point of view, not an authorial endorsement. They highlight the series’ sharper focus on class, safety, and structural inequity rather than being a treatise on cultural identity, and they appreciate the swift, unqualified apology regarding the dreadlocks reference.
- In critique: Others find the language politics and cataloging of cultures reductive, with diversity presented more as a parts list than as lived specificity. For those readers, the dreadlocks passage is symptom, not outlier, and the world building’s cultural scaffolding feels thin.
Both readings can be true in different measures. What matters for your shelf is whether you are comfortable with fiction that invites these debates and whether the apology plus revisions affects your decision to read on.
Craft notes, quickly
- Structure: A school year arc with a clean funnel toward the graduation stakes. The last act delivers a clever problem solving set piece rather than a brute force showdown.
- Prose: Conversational, digressive, very online slyness. Novik’s similes are absurd in ways that often work because they arrive at the worst possible times.
- Pacing: Spiky. Action bursts are followed by analytical monologues. If you can surf the rhythm shifts, the payoffs land.
Who will love this
- Readers who enjoy dark academia with teeth, humor, and a non cuddly narrator
- Fans of voicey first person fantasy where character growth matters as much as plot
- Anyone who wants the magic school trope rebuilt with higher casualty risk and richer systems thinking
Who should skip
- Readers allergic to info dumps or extended world explanations mid scene
- Those seeking sweeping, lyrical world wonder rather than structural analysis and sarcasm
- Readers for whom the controversy is a deal breaker regardless of revisions
Verdict
A Deadly Education is a sharp, nervy reinvention of the magic school built around a heroine who refuses to be softened for your comfort. It is messy in places, gleefully gross in others, and frequently very funny. The book’s conversations about power and safety are the marrow of the series, and El’s evolving relationship with Orion gives the story its reluctant warmth. If you can live with the exposition and you are open to the ongoing discourse around representation, this first installment is an addictive entry ticket to a school that chews its students and its readers alike.
Ready to enroll at your own risk
Buy A Deadly Education on Amazon: https://amzn.to/4gUViQ8
