The Dark And The Power Of Dark Academia (plus some sapphic dark academia book recs)
To me, dark academia, as a literary subgenre, is like the finest brand of wine. It’s a bountiful well of dark philosophy with a strong backbone of intellectualism, secret societies, and passion for learning. And it’s as rich in flavor as the delicate tannins in Cabernet Sauvignon or the bitterness of dark chocolate in Pinot Noir.
Dark academia has the power to unravel your deepest layers and fill them with longings never known before. It’s like aristocracy, only amorphous, at the fingertips of inquisitive minds.
I love dark academia with all its destructiveness: late nights studying, obsession with knowledge and academic excellence, with its secrets and almost poetic neurysms (and at times quite literal neurysms), its exploration of the darkest corners of human nature, with all its dark and gothic aesthetics. All that, in literature, bleeds with compelling prose and the extremes of intellectuality.
My ode to dark academia is an endless sonnet. But what is even better than dark academia is sapphic dark academia retellings of forgotten classics. I’m saying it with this book in mind that has introduced me to originally one of the early works of vampire fiction. It doesn’t matter if you read it or not, we all know Dracula, but to my utter satisfaction, it turns out the first vampire in fiction was in fact a woman, or to be more precise, a girl named Carmilla in the gothic novella of the same name written by Irish author Sheridan Le Fanu in 1872.
Now it wasn’t a work that I loved. Written long before even my grandma was born, the language made my senses somewhat bleak or maybe it had something to do with the fever I had at the time I set to read it or maybe it was all because of how spoiled I, as a reader, am by today’s brilliant books that drive your senses to peak in a matter of few chapters. The plot just felt dry. But the combination of mystery and gothics and the name Carmilla, what a name, and the fact that it was the earliest work of vampire fiction that I had never heard of before left a pleasant aftertaste and at the end I decided that I actually liked it. Not even close as much as this absolutely fabulous retelling of Carmilla written by brilliant S.T. Gibson, but still, it was nice to have a peek into where it all came from.
S.T. Gibson in her absolute masterpiece An Education In Malice has captured the very essence of dark academia and shamelessly douzed it with rogue, gore, mystery, and marvelous prose. This book has taught me to feel in a way I never had before. It reminded me of how some people (and I’m not one of them) experience Renaissance art or are capable of experiencing it in a way that alters and reshapes and enriches their soul, intellect, and sense of beauty.
Words in An Education In Malice weren’t just for the sake of being pretty but carried almost grotesque clarity on deeply philosophical matters of immortality, belonging, and vices of love. Oh, that book — .
And then there was A Lesson In Vengeance by Victoria Lee. The book that held me to the final page with mystery, wonder, and in the end a heartbreak. It was exceptionally well orchestrated, bold, and just like all dark academia books I read, it was desperately humane in a somewhat inhumane way (this play on words will get me in trouble one day, but, oh well, so be it). This book is a home for lethal mysteries, ghosts, and murderers hiding their true faces up till the final page. It was wild, bone-chilling, and ultimately phenomenal.
And then, since I was already so high on dark academia and feeling it to be the fuel of my life recently, I got myself, no question asked, into All That Consumes Us by Erica Waters and, oh, the level of academic obsession and dedication in Magni Viri, the graves that speak, the nights that unravel the mysteries of life beyond life, that was sooo good.
I must say that being so high on the romance in An Education In Malice and A Lesson In Vengeance, All That Consumes Us was rather—bleak?—in comparison but nevertheless it was composed in the best fashion of dark academia, with the most adorable characters and absolutely sinister ghosts. It drove me insane and that, as a reader, I live for.
Books are my personal art, the art I not just understand but am capable of experiencing. And dark academia is right at the top of the genres that have the power to alter, reshape, and ultimately enrich my soul, intellect, and sense of beauty.
It wasn’t till Gibson’s work that I was even aware of the importance of art in my life. I remember sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at the wall in my hundred-square-foot room with no actual furniture but two desks for my work and writing, a scarce collection of physical books lovingly arranged in all free corners and the bed, and thinking “oh… so is this how it feels to not just understand art but feel its power altering the gears of your very self and changing you?” That was a powerful revelation, and I immediately longed for more.
I loved all the books that I mentioned in this post, but it’s Gibson who has given me, the reader, a taste of the finest brand of wine in the form of words, immortal characters, and a story that I’m gonna remember for a long, long time. An Education In Malice has awoken the parts of me I forgot existed.
And to round this all up, I’m insisting that An Education In Malice, A Lesson In Vengeance, and All That Consumes Us, are a paradise for sapphic dark academia connoisseurs and I’m set on a life-long journey now to discovering more titles and more works in the dark academia orbit.
