Bunny

I barely remember reading this book at this point because it has been over half a year, so apologies for a dull and ranting review. I picked this one up because of the wisps of hype I had observed around the book and the fact that it promised an intriguing spin on the dark academia trope. But Bunny was a chore to get through, and I would have and should have DNFed it… if not for my annoying curiosity as to where these strange events would lead. Let that be a lesson to just DNF a book if your heart isn’t in it, no matter if you walk away without knowing how everything is resolved. (I’m still working on this.)

To start off, every character managed to annoy me, particularly our protagonist, ‘Smackie’ (and dumb nicknames abound in this book, so here is your warning if you cannot abide by that sort of thing). I’m just going to call her Sam. Anyway, Sam is one of the most insufferable protagonists; and I get why—she’s had a rough go in life and has to deal with some horrible elitism at the fancy yet fictional Warren College. I am sure that some of her experiences are somewhat autobiographical. The Bunnies, a clique of twee, fancy rich girls, are of course even worse, given that they are just as annoying and have delusional groupthink layered on top. Now, a book with unlikable characters itself need not be a bad thing; sometimes an author handles it well and makes you connect with or sympathize with the characters despite their natures. It was not so for me here.

This book is lumped with other ‘dark academia’ books, but I would caution against that categorization. There is a superficial veneer of academia, but it doesn’t play as large a role in the novel as I would have assumed. Sure, academia and its criticisms is the stage on which our characters dance, but their involvement with it is largely unexamined aside from the obvious. Yes, academia’s elites can be suffocating, insular, and unfriendly to outsiders. Tell me something I don’t already know. Occasionally Awad describes Sam’s surroundings—usually dark landscapes, perhaps wind through the trees, chills, that sort of thing. Nothing in particular excited me about this being a campus novel, per se, especially since entire chapters take place either within Sam’s neurotic brain or inside her (or another’s) apartment. I could relate to some of her feelings about the pressures of academia, but that was sort of… it.

Awad aims at some lofty themes here, most of which I can’t be bothered to remember at this point. But aside from what I’ve already mentioned above, there is some interesting hints of discussion about trauma and transformations and female power. Again, I just didn’t find any of particularly compelling or innovative. Many of the reviews also claimed this book was gruesome and disturbing, but as I read on, I kept waiting for this so-called disturbing material to appear. This will sound snobbish and perhaps it is, but maybe that is only the case if your usual repertoire is Booktok books. Nothing really scared or surprised me or pulled at my heartstrings here. There are valid criticisms to be made of academia, and I did see some hints of that from Awad, but her engagement with them left a lot wanting.

I read on to see just how Awad would tidy up all the loose ends, and the end result largely fell flat. There were aspects I had more or less seen coming. The book started off rather interesting, developing its mystery well, but like an unprepared grad student facing an impossibly close deadline, the final third of the book veers off into further delusions and an extremely messy concluding arc. I think I’ll just go and try to read The Secret History again. This book definitely was not for me, but judging by the other reviews, don’t let that necessarily scare you off if you think it may be for you.