
Series: A Study In Drowning #1
Genres: Fantasy, Dark Academia, Fae, Folklore, Gothic, New Adult, Young Adult
Published by HarperTeen on September 18, 2023
Format: eBook
Pages: 373


Effy Sayre has always believed in fairy tales. Haunted by visions of the Fairy King since childhood, she's had no choice. Her tattered copy of Angharad—Emrys Myrddin's epic about a mortal girl who falls in love with the Fairy King, then destroys him—is the only thing keeping her afloat. So when Myrddin's family announces a contest to redesign the late author's estate, Effy feels certain it's her destiny.
But musty, decrepit Hiraeth Manor is an impossible task, and its residents are far from welcoming. Including Preston Héloury, a stodgy young literature scholar determined to expose Myrddin as a fraud. As the two rivals piece together clues about Myrddin's legacy, dark forces, both mortal and magical, conspire against them—and the truth may bring them both to ruin.
In recent years, certain book genres or topics have become marketing fodder material that have taken on a considerably different impression and expectation from what they once were. Take for example “dark academia”. Once known for scholastic themed narratives rich in literature or academic theory, the term is now often associated with common romantasy publishing trends of spice, stories that have geeky main characters, magic research, or worse, any fantasy story that has some loose book or library motif. However, when it comes to Ava Reid’s YA debut novel A Study In Drowning, all of the common booktok/influencer associations of dark academia are thrown out the window. Meticulously crafted, nuanced, unhurried, yet beautiful and poetically written, A Study In Drowning is an impressively crafted story that returns to the “academia” part of the genre. The novel blends fantasy elements, scholarly pursuits, and metaphorical socio-political commentary presented through a light historical fiction lens. While not for everyone due to its notably slow pacing and the plot focusing on literary works vs more common, in-your-face fantasy concepts (not to mention it’s uncomfortable material to read though), I thoroughly loved this novel and found it to be brilliant.
“I know you think I am a little girl, and what could a little girl know about eternity? But I do know this: whether you survive the ocean or you don’t, whether you are lost or whether the waves deliver you back to the shore—every story is told in the language of water, in tongues of salt and foam. And the sea, the sea, it whispers the secret of how all things end.”
Despite being classified as a YA novel, A Study In Drowning is far more sophisticated than its target readership would suggest, only meeting the criteria of having university-aged characters and the omission of any open-door adult content, though it is implied off the page. Additionally, this novel is a difficult one to talk about without giving away any spoilers as well as being able to properly convey how effective Reid’s storytelling is. A Study In Drowning has two main storylines that are seamlessly woven together despite being very different in content. The first is Effy’s desire to be a literature student while stuck in an architectural program due to the former barring female enrollment. Her love and fascination with a fantasy fairy king story Angharad written by the late Emrys Myrddin comes to head when she is selected by Emrys’s son Ianto to design a renovation of the Myrddin estate to honor his father’s famed legacy. Upon arrival, she meets a literature student Preston Heloury who believes Myrddin’s literary career is not as it seems. A life-long fan of Myrddin’s work paired with a skeptic, the two become unexpected allies in the pursuit of validating if Myrddin truly wrote Angharad. The second storyline revolves around Effy’s cold and difficult life where she is haunted by visions of the Fairy King seeking to take her away. On the run both metaphorically and physically from these visions, the story and Fairy King in Angharad and Effy’s experiences blur together, making it impossible to tell what is fictional and what is real. It is this second storyline that decidedly earns A Study In Drowning its fantasy genre classification along with heavy local folklore and fae-flavored superstitions.
On paper it sounds like there’s a lot going on but in practice, but the actual reading experience is far quieter and slower than you would expect. Reid’s storytelling is exquisite but moves deliberately slow, with single brief events taking up entire chapters at a time. There is a lot of in-universe lore to cover as the story takes place on a fictional and economically divided island nation (implied to be an alternate fantasy-inspired version of Wales), two neighboring countries with a history of war, heavy local folklore, the political/climate-affecting event referred to as The Drowning, and the detailed story of Angharad. Besides the heavy exploration of local folklore and history, the story features frequent flashbacks to Effy’s childhood and difficult experiences at the University that provide crucial context for both novel’s storylines. The characters also spend most of the book discussing scholarly theories instead of actually doing real investigating directly and the story is relatively light on action. On top of that, Reid’s writing is beautifully poetic. Though I greatly appreciated Reid’s style, I can see many less patient or sophisticated readers finding it overwritten and excessive. All this to say, this novel is not for casual readers looking for a splashy fantasy read or those unwilling to commit the time for a slow-burn literary narrative.
However, those that do have patience or appreciate the quieter elements of stories will find a lot to love in A Study of Drowning. The most notable highlight is Ava Reid’s thoughtful yet highly intellectual writing style that is both beautiful while also having effective commentary and reflective analysis of societal burdens. Reid’s writing is also very immersive, not just visually but also atmospherically. From Effy’s spider-ridden dormitory room, to the perpetually damp and dilapidated Myrddin estate, to the blustery cold and overcast southern cliffs surrounded by the foreboding sea, the level of imaginative detail is outstanding and impressive. While reading this book, 20 pages in I had a comment written “Ava Reid is a great author and wouldn’t mind reading about grass growing as she’d somehow make it seem meaningful, though notably without coming across as forced or the recent trend of “flip open a thesaurus and start pulling out obscure vocabulary to make it sound more intellectual”.
“What defines a romance? All scholars seem to converge on a single point: it is a story that must have a happy ending. And why is that? I say, it is because a romance is a belief in the impossible: that anything ends happily. For the only true end is death—and in this way, is romance not a rebuke of mortality? When love is here, I am not. When love is not, I am gone. Perhaps a romance is a story with no end at all; where the end is but a wardrobe with a false back, leading to stranger and more merciful worlds.”
In addition to the great prose, A Study In Drowning also doesn’t shy away from themes far heavier and darker than one would expect from a YA fantasy novel or its synopsis. Leaning into a historical fiction feel despite taking place in a fantasy setting devoid of a set time or place, the story involves themes of prejudice, misogyny, unwanted sexual attention and toxic manipulation. I won’t go into too much detail to avoid spoilers, but sensitive readers should definitely check for trigger warnings beforehand. That said, while the narrative and character content can be dark, A Study In Drowning is ultimately a story of growth, female strength, and overcoming archaic institutional and social prejudice against women and those of different backgrounds. Effy and other female characters are subjected to gross misogynistic comments and attention throughout the story, but they are entirely for narrative purpose. While not only providing sharp political and social commentary metaphorically presented in the story by the University’s high-ranking male figures (Reid’s political science background has a clear presence in places), they also are great areas for character growth as Effy discovers her own confidence, worth, and strength against the outside pressures and constant feeling of drowning (figuratively, at least for most of the book). I strongly dislike how many younger or modern casual readers criticize and write-off books for not having feminist values or strength just because their characters are shown to suffer or their female characters don’t “stick it to the man” in an outspokenly brash and confrontational manner. Like Myrddin’s story of Angharad that gives Effy strength and hope to survive, A Study In Drowning is also clearly written to appeal to young women who have been subjected to misogynistic trauma or abuse from men. The actual content isn’t explicit, overtly adult/sexual, or completely demeaning, but the novel does not shy away from tackling mature and uncomfortable topics either.
“What is a mermaid but a woman half-drowned, What a selkie but an unwilling wife, What a tale but a sea-net, snatching up both From the gentle tumult of dark waves?”
For such a slow-paced novel, the story heavily depends on the strength of its characters. Fortunately, both Effy and Preston are consistently well-written and compelling to read about. Passive and withdrawn characters can be deceptively tricky to pull-off, but Effy is both appealing while still being inherently flawed (crucially, she’s also intellectually smart which is a must for academia-set stories). Initially haunted and meek, the trajectory of her character’s growth in confidence and assurance is very well-written as well as the unreliable narrator element consistent with her character’s unstable and mysterious background. The main male character and literary student Preston is also memorable, sharp-witted, logical, yet calmly detached, the perfect foil to Effy’s more emotional and passionate personality. I personally loved how visually distinctive both characters are, particularly Effy’s wavy blonde hair, signature ribbon, and plaid skirt that is instantly recognizable across various special edition cover designs and character illustrations (Illumicrate and Owlcrate’s dusk jacket character art and fanart for this series are lovely). Preston is also refreshingly nerdy, lanky, and disheveled compared to the tired and overdone massively toned, sexy, tall, dark and handsome type of main lead character; that character type is actually utilized elsewhere in the story to much better effect. I also loved their chemistry, initially starting out as academics of dueling methodologies with Preston seemingly having everything Effy longed to have. Their divided opinions on Myrddin’s literary feats perfectly fit the dark academia genre and while initially tense strangers, Reid’s effective plotting of their mutually beneficial partnership and steady support of each other to something more felt natural and fitting. These two really feel so good for each other and the transition from strangers to co-conspirators to partners just works well thanks to Reid’s gradual pacing.
One important point to note is that I don’t personally agree with or like how some people describe this book as being an enemies to lovers romance novel for a few reasons. While I understand the popular trope is a good marketing buzzword, it sets up an expectation for this novel that simply doesn’t match what it’s trying to accomplish. At no point in the story do Effy and Preston feel like “enemies”. Rather, Effy simply dislikes Preston for being a literature student, having a foreign background, being smart and logical, and for studying Myrddin despite openly believing his work is a sham. But disliking Preston does not make them enemies and while there is a romance element to the story, the romance is clearly not the focus or main draw for the book. Instead, the romance is a natural development and sign of the characters becoming closer and supporting each other in ways that no one else had. Mentioning the enemies to lovers trope also implies that this is a romantasy novel (it is not), has spice or romance (it’s a YA novel and a slow-burn romance only, if you can even call it that), and that enemies at first sight impression is key part of the story (it is not).
I’ve also seen other readers have a lot of silly or ridiculous criticisms of this novel due to either DNF-ing it before the story can fully capitalize on its dark themes or simply failing to read and understand how the different narrative elements contextually fit. One of the more comical points of criticism criticize Effy’s character for her judgmental prejudice against Preston for his foreign background and being a man who is afforded all the possibilities in life that women do not. That flawed mentality is entirely the point with Reid showing that victims of prejudice are not incapable of casting judgement on others themselves, as well as allowing Effy’s own internal thoughts and feelings space to evolve as she gets to know Preston better. The frequent moments of bigotry throughout the story also have narrative purpose to show the flawed and archaic society Effy and Preston live in rather than being a cozy rosy nation that would be very unfitting for the story. I’m often of the opinion that many readers today are far too volatile or sensitive to anything that doesn’t necessarily align with their opinions and somehow it’s the book’s fault for spurring negative feelings. This story is also classified as a dark academia book whose synopsis describes a literary investigation, fraud, and interest in a fictional fantasy book. Readers that are disappointed that the romance is slow, the fantasy elements missing, or that the story is too much about writing have me questioning whether they even read the synopsis? Criticisms of the book’s pacing and preferentially overwritten presentation I get. Criticizing its thematic content or trajectory of the story, I will never understand.
Beautifully written, conceptually creative, ambitiously crafted and plotted, A Study In Drowning is a classy and complex novel that is far more dramatic and serious than it appears on the surface. Perhaps a more fitting title would be A Study In Literary Taste and Sophistication due to it being a great litmus test for a reader’s appreciation of quality writing. As previously highlighted, this novel goes against almost every popular contemporary fantasy/romantasy trope or appeal pushed by booktok/bookstagram, no doubt explaining the many polarizing reviews written for this book. Despite lacking mainstream appeal or ease of readership, I thoroughly loved A Study In Drowning and found it satisfying to know there are still tasteful fantasy books being published outside of the more hardcore high/epic fantasy sub-genres. I really enjoyed this novel and can’t wait to read the sequel A Theory of Dreaming when it comes out later this month.
As a side note, it’s worth noting that at the time it was published, Ava Reid originally intended for A Study In Drowning to be an uncommon standalone fantasy novel. Though the upcoming sequel and bonus novella + extra content binding are due to be published later this month and in December respectively, A Study In Drowning can be read on its own and has a satisfying ending. While there’s still a lot of fantasy material and areas in Reid’s world that have yet to be explored, this novel has a definitive and clear ending on its own.