Review: If We Were Villains by Rio

If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio is my first foray into the “dark academia” genre. A category of books and fashion choices that speak to a love of classical education, preparatory-style schooling, and the drama that can only occur in said schools. This book takes place in a conservatory school (Dellecher Classical Conservatory, hitherto shortened to Dellecher) that prides itself on producing the finest students of the fine arts possible: music, dance, philosophy, and of course acting. It is the kind of place I would not mind working at, as it seems to elevate the pursuit of good art above all else. The story follows a single narrator, Oliver, and six others in their fourth year at Dellecher. Knowing these kinds of schools, I am aware of the baggage one can obtain after four years in this sort of program, in Villains the baggage becomes more complicated when one of the six winds up dead in a pond just outside of campus. The rest of the texts deals with their reactions to the death, and the truth of how that body came to be ebbs out as the tension rises. 

This book, in just the first few pages, established itself as incredibly pretentious—and that’s coming from someone who teaches poetry. One of the lines on the first page made me laugh a cynical, taunting laugh as an older character says to our narrator “You would say f****** fortnight [you f******ing nerd].” I initially wondered if I had been recommended “Jung’s Archetypes, the Fictional Book.” However, as time went on I realized the individuals are in a struggle with their typecastings than complacent in them. 

This book helped me realize I do not like books that lean toward the hedonistic. There is far too much swearing, drinking, substance abuse, and casual sex in these pages for me to recommend in good conscience to anyone I know. Rest assured, I understand why these “features” are included in the text; I could have simply done without them. You would think a group of friends who are inundated with the Bard’s English could find something better than vulgar four-letter words to toss at each other, but I digress. I also found it funny that once again I am reading about several main characters. Do you people (those who recommend books to me) ever read books about singular characters? Or it is always a team? 

Be that as it may, I found myself glossing over the parts when characters recite or perform lines from Shakespeare. I picked out this book to read original work, not the near plagiarism of one of the greatest minds in history. I know what happened in the plays, and I can read them again if I want to. I wanted to read Rio describe her original characters, not reinvent Shakespeare. Be that as it may, the language and word choice is good. The author writes clean copy and I had no issues with her style.

One of the morals of this book is that education—especially the higher-end, liberal arts style of education—is not real life. The class, the drama, and the performances are not indicative of anything outside those classrooms unless you are fortunate to either work in the fine arts or teach fine arts. Despite this, Rio writes this book as a love letter to those days. The days in which you are inundated with the fine arts and fine friends who value them. She is also aware of the pseudo-need for this kind of education—go through life without any exposure to Shakespeare and the rest and you will miss critical pieces of human understanding. On the other hand, be surrounded by too much of it (much like our cast of characters in Villains) and you will be damaged in some way. Struck by an inability to cope with the real world because you are still caught in the hyperreality of Shakespeare’ drama.

And it is this part of the book I resonate with the most, the becoming detached from that academic world. I make it no secret that I miss New York bitterly, but it’s not just the city I miss. Rather, my no longer being at The King’s College leaves a larger gapping hole than my apartment in Bed-Stuy, the MTA, or the Strand. At King’s, I was surrounded by peers and betters who were obsessed with the same thing I was: the classics, interpretation, finding order in all of it. We read incredible books, saw incredible art, and had incredible conversations over stouts at The White Horse. And after two and a half years it is over, and I set out for the desert both literally and metaphorically. My realization of the done-ness of that experience is the same sensation felt by Oliver and Meredith during their tryst in New York before their last semester. Maybe it is the non-real-life nature of the college experience that is so intoxicating. When you realize you may never be surrounded by these kind of remarkable people again something dies inside. As they grapple with this Oliver offers a solution: “Then I guess you’ll have to move into some hovel in Queens with the rest of us.” But Meredith replies with definite truth we all grapple with at some point, as she quietly says, “it won’t be the same.” And it never can be. 

I think LCD Soundsystem’s ballad American Dream is a perfect summation of this feeling. I think—and don’t quote me on this, I am only interpreting here—the song uses the metaphor of hook-up culture and the failure that entails as a metaphor for the failure of the American Dream (what ever that may be). And this fits perfectly with the experiences our narrator Oliver is going through. As frontman James Murphy writes and sings, “so you kiss and you clutch but you can’t fight that feeling that your one true love is just awaiting your big meeting.” Oliver’s passion, or love if you will, is for acting and Shakespeare, and yet none of that is real. Real enough to keep the conservatory school open, and his friends close, but not enough for the life beyond the walls of Dellecher. He is reminded of this every time he goes home to Ohio. He wants to live in that feeling of the stage, the rehearsals, and the comradery. But, like Murphy croons at the end of American Dream, “there is no going back against this California [Dellecher] feeling.” If we understand the metaphor of the song to be what I mentioned above and connect that to Oliver, there is no going against the feeling of giving himself away for the sake of the feeling and experience of the stage at the school. Whether he is giving himself to a role, to Meredith’s bed, hatred of Richard, or any of his strong friendships, he is running out of himself. This brings me back to the issue of how wonderful and deadly those last years of high school and college years can be. Not real. But you hope to God they last. 

And this is where If We Were Villains ends for me. I found myself disapproving of how the story developed from there for no other reason than I did not like how Rio resolved the story. I am not a fan of pyrrhic stores of self-sacrifice when the odds are this low. I found Oliver’s act of falling on the sword rather insulting as a reader. There was much more Rio could have done with him that still would have landed him in prison for 10 years. Though I am glad he ended up with Meredith at the end. They sort of deserve each other; they are two of a very small number of people who know what life at Dellecher was like and might be the only two capable of helping each other heal.

This book made me think and feel a lot of things. While some of the content is off-putting or so far-fetched one can only laugh; the whole of the book is of good work. It certainly speaks to those who love academia and submerge themselves in the study of art and craft—more so that just that of stagecraft. I am glad this one was recommended to me. It helped me exorcise and exercise some baggage, but also laugh at how silly the hyperreality of academia can be.