Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

Galaxy “Alex” Stern is the most unlikely member of Yale’s freshman class. Raised in the Los Angeles hinterlands by a hippie mom, Alex dropped out of school early and into a world of shady drug dealer boyfriends, dead-end jobs, and much, much worse. By age twenty, in fact, she is the sole survivor of a horrific, unsolved multiple homicide. Some might say she’s thrown her life away. But at her hospital bed, Alex is offered a second chance: to attend one of the world’s most elite universities on a full ride. What’s the catch, and why her?

Still searching for answers to this herself, Alex arrives in New Haven tasked by her mysterious benefactors with monitoring the activities of Yale’s secret societies. These eight windowless “tombs” are well-known to be haunts of the future rich and powerful, from high-ranking politicos to Wall Street and Hollywood’s biggest players. But their occult activities are revealed to be more sinister and more extraordinary than any paranoid imagination might conceive.

I like Leigh Bardugo but am not immediately sold by her name. Rereading Shadow & Bone recently reminded me of Leigh Bardugo’s writing style: overall pretty good across all fronts, but nothing earth-shattering. I was impressed by the amount of growth Leigh Bardugo showed in this adult debut: she crafted a risky narrative that felt unfamiliar and compelling.

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Ninth House is dark academia at its finest. But instead of being dark academia purely aesthetically, Ninth House is dark academia in terms of subject matter. Instead of feeling romantic, it feels cold and dusty.

I felt prepared to tackle this one mostly because of what I’ve been reading lately. The Cruel Prince by Holly Black primed me to be able to read realism and ugly violence.

In terms of depth, it embodies its academic foundations with a slower, more involved story. If you peek at Bardugo’s acknowledgements section, you’ll see that her research took her through the archives of Yale and through a ton of institutional history. I loved the scholarship in this.

CONTENT

As mentioned, I’m a softer reader. I’m an optimist and a romantic, and Ninth House has a reputation for being particularly brutal. Leigh Bardugo’s come under fire and criticism for including graphic sexual assault, and has pushed back accordingly with her own survivor story, provoking a whole discussion in publishing about trigger and content warnings. I actually completely agree with her take on it. It seems that Ninth House is often targeted because she’s previously written for young adults. But if she has content warnings on her book for containing drug abuse, rape, and other darker subjects, by all means, include them on American Psycho and Stephen King. For more on that subject, I liked this article.

““I don’t ever want to blindside my readers, and I do not approach this with a sense of callousness or disregard. But I also think that if there is a bigger question about content warnings on books, then let’s have that conversation. But let’s not target individual books divorced from that conversation.””

Anyways, so now you know there’s a lot of darkness in here. As a whole, what Alex (our narrator) experienced and witnessed directly had an impact on the plot and her characterization. Some readers have criticized it as being there for shock value, but I was able to trace its direct impact on her character and choices, so I disagree. Instead, the storyline of sexual assault infused and complicated the discussions of privilege and survival that framed the emotional core of the book. Alex was harsh and purely focused on survival; her history wasn’t pretty. She was a previous user and rape survivor from a childhood experience with a Gray, one of the ghosts she’d grown up seeing. She wasn’t rude or grating — that’s not the connotation I mean by ‘harsh’ — but rather had no qualms about what she needed to do to make it from point A to point B.

Ninth House actually reminded me a lot of Sawkill Girls by Claire LeGrand in terms of those discussions and topics. Sawkill Girls is one of my favorites, because I prioritize atmosphere, but is extremely heavy-handed about those topics; Ninth House is more nuanced, which I preferred.

There is one scene in this book that I frequently think back to that makes me nauseous whenever I recall it. I wish I could scrub that scene from my memory. Let's just say, Alex knows how to get revenge.

CHARACTERS

The other characters were solid and thoroughly composed, but not described with particular warmth. I felt like I knew each of them, but didn’t feel emotionally connected to any of them. I liked Darlington, Alex was interesting albeit a bit stiff, and the rest were solid enough. I rooted for them, but didn’t feel like I’d be friends with them — which was kind of surprising, because most of the time if I like a character, it’s because I do feel some sort of emotional connection or empathy. For the crew in this book, I felt sympathy but not as much empathy.

I’m now reevaluating what I consider a “flat” character to be. Normally, I would classify that as a character who’s simple and one-dimensional. Now, I’m considering expanding my definition to include characters with complex backstories and issues, but who are never given the emotional depth beyond that to get me to fully care. Does that make sense?

The characters in Ninth House were complex, and you could see little hints of who they were beyond their backstories, but it never quite felt like enough. I liked them well enough for a four-star read, is all I’m saying.

PACING & PLOTTING

Pacing worked really well in some places and a little less well in others so I’m going to call it square. Considering it’s a rather hefty book, the fact that I never truly got bored was pretty laudable. I enjoyed the talented folding of flashbacks and individual character profiles. It reminded me of the nonchronological dreamscape of The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern.

I am a mood reader, and so I felt like part of why I found this read to be successful was that I was in the mood to relax into a read. If I hadn’t been feeling that way, I’m not sure I would have taken to it as well, so I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone in a reading slump, or a reluctant reader.

It is mostly narration. There’s very little dialogue, it’s mostly telling as opposed to showing, and so it makes the book feel much longer. From what I can tell, that’s a big reason a lot of readers were unable to get through it. For me, I didn’t fully mind because my reading taste is very setting-heavy.

The ending was exciting, but felt a bit abrupt. It was curiosity, not urgency, that got me to the end of it. Now, that wasn’t a bad thing as I soaked in the atmosphere, but it may not be compelling enough for every reader. I enjoyed the smattering of details and the small rabbit holes it went down, but it could have done better with some more centralized tension. If some of those reveals had happened a bit earlier, it would have felt a lot more cohesive. The beginning and middle could feel slow. Instead, the ending absorbed the brunt of the action.

The action worked mostly, but had this muddled, chaotic quality to it that could make it overwhelming. This style worked well for the party scenes, rituals, drug scenes, and flashbacks. The lack of clarity may be frustrating to some readers. It’s also an interesting take considering that most of the book is heavy on the narration already, so it feels like we’re being told a lot, and then thrust into a passage that’s suddenly sensory overload. The contrast worked well enough for me, but I could pinpoint where people might feel lost.

ATMOSPHERE

This book is excellent with atmosphere. Atmosphere, atmosphere, atmosphere. It’s eerie and dark, and so would make an ideal pre-Halloween read (which is my reading taste summarized in a line.) It made me miss college, not for the content, but for the institutional surroundings. The worldbuilding is curious enough to keep me reading until the end, and likely a story world I would like to meander through again. Usually, if I love a book, it’s for having the atmosphere to make me forget I’m on my couch in the middle of a pandemic trying to feel something else.

OVERALL

Overall, it’s a solid four-star read for me that was great for when I was in the mood to go slow and savor a distinctive atmosphere. It was darker than my usual, so it worked for when I was in a headspace that was fine for me to process the content and subject matter. The academic atmosphere was successful for me. I liked the characters, but didn’t feel any emotional resonance. The pacing was interesting to me, although slower, and so kept my interest, and it was mostly wrapped up in the last hundred pages or so. I’ll likely read the sequel, but will have to make sure I’m in the proper mood for it.

Apparently Stephen King blurbed it, which makes sense, as it has a very Stephen King-esque vibe to it that I’m sure adult horror readers will appreciate (a note which is also the reason why I included the article about attaching a content warning to this read, but not male writers' horror.) The main characters had all experienced significant trauma, so it’s not a book I would recommend to those who might be processing a sexual assault or drug addiction. It has a lot of thoughtful discussions about privilege and darkness that I enjoyed mulling over.

As a whole, it has an excellent I-need-another-word-for-dark college setting, with enough intrigue to keep me going, although not enough action for me to wholly recommend it to most readers.

For fans of:

Carrie by Stephen King; Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand; The Cruel Prince by Holly Black; The Invocations by Krystal Sutherland; trauma narratives; secret societies; harsh main characters; lowkey Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV) for a similar darkness?