Book Review: Dr. Edith Vane and the Hares of Crawley Hall

Book Review: Dr. Edith Vane and the Hares of Crawley Hall by Suzette Mayr 

Goodreads Description: Dr. Edith Vane, scholar of English literature, is contentedly ensconced at the University of Inivea. Her dissertation on pioneer housewife memoirist Beulah Crump-Withers is about to be published, and she's on track for tenure, if only she can fill out her AAO properly. She's a little anxious, but a new floral blouse and her therapist's repeated assurance that she is the architect of her own life should fix that. All should be well, really. Except for her broken washing machine, her fickle new girlfriend, her missing friend Coral, her backstabbing fellow professors, a cutthroat new dean—and the fact that the sentient and malevolent Crawley Hall has decided it wants them all out, and the hall and its hellish hares will stop at nothing to get rid of them.

My Review: Horror as a genre tends to lean towards the cartoonish -- madmen with axes, supernatural predators-- because the mundane horrors that fill an adult's everyday life are mostly intangible. Suzette Mayr leapt at that challenge like a cracked-up jackrabbit, using magical realism to bring the horrors of academia to life through a delightfully satirical perspective. As an academic herself, Mayr draws on her own experiences as an English professor when criticizing the institutional failings of universities that care more about profit and prestige than the well-being of their staff and students. 

The book follows Edith, an introverted English professor facing increasing pressure from her department heads to hurry up and publish her dissertation. Edith struggles to find balance between her professional and personal life, and as stress mounts, she throws herself further into her work, hoping to find salvation through external validation. Health struggles compound under the poor building maintenance, and soon Edith begins seeing strange things within the university - fellow professors going missing, a sinkhole opening up, and the devilish hares that are more than they appear. But is any of it actually real? Or is she hallucinating due to a budding stress disorder? Mayr's use of magical realism within the book treads the fine line between real and imaginary, allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions. Is Crawley Hall really alive, or is Edith spiraling into mental illness? 

Throughout the book, Edith refuses to acknowledge how systematic oppression/failures have harmed her and assumes personal responsibility for failing to keep up with impossible standards, driving her to figurative madness. The text almost feels Shakespearian at times due to Edith's inability to see how the system and environment she's in has pushed her to act against her best interest, while the audience can see the connection between her emotionally abusive upbringing, to her lack of a support system, to the predatory nature of the university. It feels like a modern iteration of a classic 'driven mad' Shakespeare narrative, but with a greater understanding of how various intersectionalities of identity (class, race, gender, upbringing, etc.) influence someone towards 'madness.' The magical elements really highlight and enhance this downwards spiral, as well as create a hauntingly creepy atmosphere to set the drama within. 

This novel is both a character study as well as a critique of academia. As such, the plot is slow and mostly focuses on Edith's daily ruminations and routines, which takes time to build into a solid mystery. Tension does build right from the start around the school, but as Edith's focus is on her work, little of the narrative is spent actually trying to 'solve' the mystery. While this approach felt fresh when compared with other narratives where characters drive straight towards the plot, it also gave the book a literary feel, complete with the stereotypical pros and cons that come with the genre. To support readers through the slower plot points, Mayr filled the book with gorgeous, lyrical language that is heavily layered with symbols, metaphors, and satirical commentary on all facets of life. 

The book's satire is deliciously absurd and yet freakishly real. The oppressive atmosphere mounts until it threatens to suffocate Edith by the finale, which beautifully illustrates how overwhelming stress and mental illness can become. Ultimately, my favourite part of the book is its finale, which (no spoilers) capitalizes on all the building horror and manages a twist that gave me chills in all the best ways. The ending satisfies by balancing Edith's wins and loses to create a catharsis for readers who enjoy it when both the hero and the villain get a few solid jabs in. 

TL;DR: 4/5 stars. A chilling and satirical perspective on the horrors of academia.