Contents
The Premise That Hooks You
Diana Bishop, a Yale history of science professor researching at Oxford, discovers a bewitched alchemical manuscript in the Bodleian Library. What unfolds is part academic mystery, part forbidden romance, and part supernatural thriller. It’s the kind of setup that should have you tearing through pages—but here’s the thing: you won’t be tearing through anything.
The Good: Harkness Knows Her Stuff
Let me start with what works. Deborah Harkness isn’t playing pretend here. She’s a history professor at USC with Fulbright, Guggenheim, and National Humanities Center fellowships, and boy, does it show. The historical details feel lived-in rather than Googled. When Diana handles centuries-old manuscripts or Matthew discusses genetic markers, you’re not rolling your eyes at amateur research—you’re learning something.
The world-building deserves real credit. Witches, vampires, and daemons coexist in a hidden underworld where relationships between different species are strictly forbidden. It’s not particularly original, but Harkness grounds everything in enough historical and scientific detail that it feels plausible. Almost.
Matthew Clairmont, the 1,500-year-old vampire geneticist, is genuinely interesting. A vampire who does science? Who drinks wine and practices yoga? That’s fresh. Diana herself—when she’s not being frustratingly passive—represents something we don’t see enough of in fantasy: the academic heroine who’s more comfortable with manuscripts than martial arts.
The Bad: Someone Needed to Edit This Thing
Here’s where I have to be honest with you: this book needed a ruthless editor with a red pen and no mercy.
At nearly 600 pages, A Discovery of Witches feels like it’s at least 150 pages too long. Readers found the pacing tedious with long drawn-out scenes, and they’re absolutely right. There are entire chapters where Diana goes to the library, does some research, goes rowing, has tea, thinks about Matthew, and… that’s it. Rinse and repeat.
The repetition becomes maddening. Early in the book, there’s a stretch where the same activities happen over and over without advancing the plot. One reader noted that Matthew and Diana do the same thing repeatedly, making it boring enough to consider abandoning the book. I felt that pain.
The Problematic Romance
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: Matthew and Diana’s relationship. On paper, it’s a forbidden romance. In practice, it’s… complicated.
Matthew’s behavior frequently crosses from protective into controlling territory. He makes decisions for Diana, monitors her movements, and gets possessive in ways that the book frames as romantic but read as red flags. Some readers found Matthew’s controlling behavior concerning rather than protective. When your vampire love interest is basically helicoptering a grown woman with a PhD, we need to ask some questions.
Diana’s passivity doesn’t help. Here’s a witch descended from powerful magical bloodlines who spent most of her life avoiding magic. That’s fine as a starting point, but her reluctance to use her powers—even when she’s in actual danger—gets frustrating fast. When encountering danger, Diana cowers and asks for help rather than using her powers. For readers hoping for a strong female protagonist, this is disappointing.
The Writing: Academic Precision Meets Fiction’s Flow
Harkness writes with the precision of someone who’s spent decades crafting peer-reviewed articles. Sometimes that’s a strength—her descriptions of Oxford, the Bodleian Library, and alchemical processes are vivid and exact.
But academic writing and fiction writing are different beasts. Critics praised the intelligence and blend of history and fantasy, though some felt the prose was terrible and the pacing torpid. There’s truth in both assessments. The book is smart, maybe too smart for its own good. Harkness gets so caught up in showing her expertise that she forgets to maintain narrative momentum.
Who Should Read This?
If you’re someone who:
- Loves detailed historical settings and doesn’t mind slow burns
- Enjoys academic protagonists and intellectual puzzles
- Can forgive problematic relationship dynamics for the sake of story
- Appreciates vampire fiction that tries something different than fangs and bloodlust
Then give it a shot. Many readers found it captivating enough to reread, noticing new details on subsequent readings.
If you’re someone who:
- Needs tight pacing and constant forward motion
- Gets impatient with repetitive scenes
- Wants a genuinely empowered heroine from page one
- Expects vampires to be, you know, vampiric
You might want to skip this one.
The Bottom Line
A Discovery of Witches is a frustrating book because you can see the brilliant novel buried inside the bloated one we got. It became a New York Times bestseller and has been translated into more than 36 languages, so clearly it resonated with a lot of readers. The subsequent books and successful TV adaptation prove the story has legs.
But I can’t ignore the flaws. The pacing issues are real. The relationship dynamics are questionable. And honestly, if you’re going to write a 600-page book, every page needs to earn its place.
Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
This is dark academia meets paranormal romance, emphasis on the academia. It’s intelligent, ambitious, and ultimately too in love with its own research to maintain the tension a thriller demands. Worth reading if you’re patient and forgiving. Worth skipping if you value your time.
For readers looking for the A Discovery of Witches experience without the slog: Wait for a cold, rainy weekend when you have nowhere to be. Make tea. Settle in. This book demands your patience, and if you’re willing to give it, there’s genuine magic hiding in those library stacks.
Just be prepared to wait for it.