The Unmagical Life of Briar Jones by Lex Croucher follows Briar as they finally enter the gates of Temple, the elite boarding school (rumoured to be magical) and the object of obsession for Briar and their childhood best friend Seb. However, Briar isn’t entering as a student, but as a member of staff, seven years after Seb was accepted and Briar was left behind. Jarringly, Temple is everything and nothing like they imagined and to make things worse, the sensitive Seb they knew is long gone, replaced instead by someone who is nothing less than a villain.

The writing in this book is delicious. Croucher is clearly a fan of an adverb and wields them with precision alongside stark metaphors that bring the world of Temple to life. They nail the swaggering arrogance of the Temple scholars: every conversation positively drips with privilege, power, and a healthy injection of Mummy and Daddy’s cash. Briar doesn’t fit in with this crowd at all – they grew up working on a dairy farm and know what it’s like to have parents that value their wellbeing over their reputation. 

Temple walks the line between being an institution that rules with an iron fist, and one that lets its scholars get away with murder. On the one hand: strict hierarchies, meal times, and contraband rules. On the other: secret rituals, first year slaves, and no consequences for hexing a classmate. There is no doubt in my mind that the Temple staff have never once read Keeping Children Safe in Education (the document that all staff working in education in the UK are legally required to read every year). As an ex-teacher and boarding school alum, I watched the events of this book unfold in the same way you would watch a car crash. Minus the aforementioned hexes, the plot followed an uncomfortably believable thread of events and I couldn’t have stopped reading it even if had I wanted to.

Inner-teacher-horror aside, this was such an engaging read. I wanted to understand every single detail of this setting and these characters. Everyone on the page was a whole novel in themselves and layers and layers were peeled back as you turned the pages. Some were entertainingly awful people, some appeared innocent or kind, but every single one of them had been polluted by The Work (magic) in some way and none of them could accurately be described as a good person. This soupy, grey morality kept me on my toes as I could never predict what anyone was going to do next. 

Queerness is heavily present throughout the novel, though not necessarily explored. It’s simply there, and in Briar’s case this is by Croucher’s design. It’s refreshing for a non-binary protagonist to not have to explain themselves to everyone they meet – though of course the occasional introduction is unavoidable to craft a realistic story. The other queer representation is subtle enough to avoid the crushing weight of the heteronormative traditions at Temple, while still holding its own and waiting for its moment.

The Unmagical Life of Briar Jones is a masterclass in writing nuanced, morally grey, and occasionally unhinged characters. It sucks you into the debauched underworld of an impossibly elite school and doesn’t let go. You, too, will want to scour the library for texts that can unlock the secrets you’re searching for, trawl through forgotten attics for valuables, and get absolutely slaughtered at the local pub.  A must-read for any dark academia fan, particularly for those fond of A Deadly Education, or Gideon the Ninth. 

The Unmagical Life of Briar Jones is due for publication on 9th June from Gollancz – you can pre-order your copy on Bookshop.org