When Brittany and I finished writing our last HopeLore talk, I decided I deserved a treat to celebrate.

In eminently predictable style, my treat was rereading a favorite book. In this case: Death in the Spires by KJ Charles.

I’ve written before about how much I absolutely adore this book, which I’ve described more than once as “righteous dark academia.” It’s the story of a group of seven unlikely friends who take their Oxford college by storm in the late 1800s…until one of them is murdered. The crime remains unsolved, though the friends know that one of them is guilty. Ten years later, Jem, arguably the least powerful of the original friend group, loses yet another job to rumors and speculation, and he decides he’s going to solve the mystery once and for all, no matter the cost.

This book feels like it was custom-made for me personally (thanks, KJ Charles!) It has all the trappings and conventions of dark academia, features a friends-to-lovers romance, takes place at Oxford, involves the staging of a Shakespeare play as a major plot driver, and is bursting with secrets and mysteries. Also, Anglo-Saxon poetry and a character clearly modeled after Oscar Wilde.

But most importantly, it ends hopefully.

There’s SO MUCH that I love about dark academia. I mean, it’s by definition set in schools, and I’m someone who loves learning so much that I got an MA, a PhD, and then started my own school with Brittany, like an utter lunatic. And of course dark academia tends to have vibes, which are usually some combination of sinister, luxe, sexy, erudite, even magical. It’s a genre that might as well be summed up thusly:

Fancy danger school full of SEKRITS.

Which, sign me up.

(And, hey, if you want us to teach another Dark Academia course here at Carterhaugh, definitely comment below and let us know!)

But I’m often left feeling kind of queasy at the end of many dark academia books. Because the plot goes something like “terrible fancy people did terrible things, lives were ruined, and now everything is ruined.”

Which, do not sign me up, what is your return policy please?

Death in the Spires does not do this. Instead, wrongs are uncovered. Harm is acknowledged and discussed. Reparations are made. New starts are possible, friendships are restored, and damaged relationships are rekindled.

See? Righteous dark academia. 

As I finished the book at 1am (do not judge me), I kept thinking about why this book is such a comfort read for me, despite all the murder and sekrits, which of course made me start thinking about my other comfort reads.

Sunshine by Robin McKinley. (A grumpy baker realizes she’s actually a terrifyingly powerful magic handler and possibly humanity’s last best hope against the vampires who are slowly, inevitably eclipsing humanity. Oh, and she has to work with this one weirdly ethical vampire to succeed, because it’s a secret Beauty and the Beast retelling.) 

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir. (Sweet jock and goth disaster travel to a distant haunted house to see if they can become God’s new assistants/ magical girls. It’s basically Agatha Christie does The Hunger Games in space with lesbian swordfights.)

Pretty much anything by T Kingfisher. (The creepiest horses in the world, wildly inventive fairy-tale retellings, lots of necromancy.)

This is a very weird list of “comfort books.” Please know that I know.

I don’t really do a lot of cozy mysteries or chill books. I do…murder and necromancy, apparently. 

But these books don’t feel bleak to me. They feel warm. Hopeful.

There is something profoundly comforting to me about stories about awful things that can be…if not overcome, at least met. Looked at, defeated, rebuilt. It’s just I want the awful things to be giant skeleton monsters and vampires and murders-that-actually-turn-out-to-be-super-justified.

In a HopeLore class last week, I said something off-the-cuff about my love of things that are sinister yet wholesome.

So I guess this is my love letter to sinister wholesomeness. To stories that grapple with real things through really eerie metaphors and then whack them with swords or detective work or unlikely alliances.

What’s your favorite comfort read? No, seriously, I really want to know! Is it sinister or cozy? I want to expand my repertoire of both.

Tell me in the comments.

Yours in mischief and magic,

P.S. An important deadline approaches for our Enchanted England trip this September. The last chance to book a guaranteed spot on our 2025 departure is May 18th! If you’d like to join us, please click here and sign up before then! (And yes, of course it involves a day in our favorite corporeal fancy danger school, Oxford!)

_{Disclosure: We are affiliates of Bookshop.org and may earn a commission if you click through any of our book links and make a purchase. Thank you for supporting independent bookshops!}