If El Higgins walked into a room, half the people would love her and the other half would immediately want to leave. And honestly? That’s what makes her great. She’s a sarcastic, bitter, rage-fueled antiheroine who refuses to be the Chosen One, and I adored every second of her internal monologue. Orion Lake, the clueless golden boy who just won’t stop saving people, is an excellent foil, and their dynamic is pure chaotic gold. The side characters? Not as fleshed out as I’d like, but they serve their purpose—whether that’s helping, annoying, or actively trying to kill El.

Imagine Hogwarts, but instead of whimsy and nostalgia, it’s designed by a sadistic dungeon master who wants you to suffer. The Scholomance isn’t just dangerous—it’s actively homicidal. Maleficaria lurk in vents, classmates are just as likely to murder you as befriend you, and graduation is basically a bloodbath where only half the class makes it out alive. It’s grim, unsettling, and utterly fantastic. The world-building is dense, but it pays off, making this one of the most immersive magical school settings I’ve ever read.

Naomi Novik’s writing is like El herself—witty, sharp, and, at times, exhausting. The prose is laced with dry humor and biting social commentary, and the world-building is meticulously detailed. Sometimes too detailed. There are entire pages of magical theory and political structure dumps that, while fascinating, make you want to skim ahead to the next actual event. The dialogue is snappy, though, and El’s voice is so strong that even when the info-dumping drags, she’s still entertaining enough to keep things moving.

There’s a school full of murder-monsters and an overpowered hero trying to save everyone, so naturally, we spend a lot of time talking about how unfair the enclave system is. Don’t get me wrong, the underlying tension is great, but if you’re looking for a breakneck, twist-filled plot, this isn’t it. The pacing can be sluggish, and a lot of the book is just El existing in this death trap, trying not to die. The final reveal is solid, but I wanted more movement, more stakes, and less overexplaining of things I already got the first time.

I started reading this book and found myself completely sucked in. The concept alone—magic school where survival is not guaranteed—kept me hooked. There’s an underlying sense of dread on every page, which makes even mundane activities (like taking a shower) feel like a life-or-death decision. The only reason this doesn’t get a full 10 is because the occasional info-dumps slow the momentum, making some sections feel like a magical survival guide rather than a novel.

The world-building is impressively tight, but the people within it? They could use a bit more nuance. The enclave system makes sense, the magic rules are consistent, and the Scholomance operates on a clear, brutal logic. But Orion’s whole “I must save everyone” compulsion? Barely explored. Some of the friendships feel a little thin, and El’s “everyone hates me” mentality gets grating when it’s clear that, actually, people don’t hate her nearly as much as she thinks they do. That said, the moral complexity of power, privilege, and magical ethics is chef’s kiss.

This book is an absolute blast if you like dark humor, morally gray characters, and a protagonist who would rather die than accept help. The writing can be dense, the pacing inconsistent, and El is sometimes too committed to her whole "I don’t need anyone" persona, but the sheer vibe of this book is unmatched. Would I recommend it? Absolutely. Would I survive a day in the Scholomance? Not a chance.

If you’ve ever wished Harry Potter was less about friendship and learning and more about avoiding death by monster attack, A Deadly Education is for you. It’s dark, funny, and refreshingly cynical, with a protagonist who is equal parts brilliant and infuriating. The pacing drags sometimes, and the world-building can get a little too detailed, but overall, this is a fantastic read that left me immediately reaching for the sequel.