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A review by orionmerlin
Vicious by V.E. Schwab
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
Characters: 7/10
Victor Vale is a textbook “Magnificent Bastard”—the kind of antihero who probably alphabetizes his revenge plots and irons his black longcoat. He’s calculating, charming in a sociopathic way, and clearly the product of several Reddit threads about how to write “morally gray but hot” characters. But under the brooding and the blackout poetry, he’s still kinda hollow. His affection for Sydney and Mitch gives him a softer edge, sure—but it often reads more like vibes than emotional depth. Eli, meanwhile, is the final boss of religious trauma, complete with a martyr complex and a healing factor to match. He's a Knight Templar serial killer who thinks he's God’s personal EO exterminator, but the book never really decides if he's chilling or just annoying. Sydney is the would-be heart of the story, and while I loved her undead puppy and passive-aggressive sass, her emotional arc felt more like an accessory to Victor's than a full story of her own. Mitch gets a gold star for “most normal man in a murder cult,” but he’s more concept than character. Everyone here is interesting—but not all of them are convincing.
Victor Vale is a textbook “Magnificent Bastard”—the kind of antihero who probably alphabetizes his revenge plots and irons his black longcoat. He’s calculating, charming in a sociopathic way, and clearly the product of several Reddit threads about how to write “morally gray but hot” characters. But under the brooding and the blackout poetry, he’s still kinda hollow. His affection for Sydney and Mitch gives him a softer edge, sure—but it often reads more like vibes than emotional depth. Eli, meanwhile, is the final boss of religious trauma, complete with a martyr complex and a healing factor to match. He's a Knight Templar serial killer who thinks he's God’s personal EO exterminator, but the book never really decides if he's chilling or just annoying. Sydney is the would-be heart of the story, and while I loved her undead puppy and passive-aggressive sass, her emotional arc felt more like an accessory to Victor's than a full story of her own. Mitch gets a gold star for “most normal man in a murder cult,” but he’s more concept than character. Everyone here is interesting—but not all of them are convincing.
Atmosphere/Setting: 6.5/10
The city of Merit has the personality of a crime scene after the forensics team has already packed up and gone home. I’m told it’s gritty. I’m shown some alleys. I get graveyards, dorm rooms, and hospital beds, all dipped in grayscale aesthetic, but it’s more tone than texture. There’s a lot of “setting as vibes” here—moody, slick, but indistinct. That said, the ambiance of the EO world is compelling in a comic book noir kind of way. It’s very cape buster meets grad school breakdown, which honestly works for this brand of intimate supervillain chaos. I just wish the physical spaces were a little more vivid—right now, they feel like cutout backdrops for monologues and murder.
The city of Merit has the personality of a crime scene after the forensics team has already packed up and gone home. I’m told it’s gritty. I’m shown some alleys. I get graveyards, dorm rooms, and hospital beds, all dipped in grayscale aesthetic, but it’s more tone than texture. There’s a lot of “setting as vibes” here—moody, slick, but indistinct. That said, the ambiance of the EO world is compelling in a comic book noir kind of way. It’s very cape buster meets grad school breakdown, which honestly works for this brand of intimate supervillain chaos. I just wish the physical spaces were a little more vivid—right now, they feel like cutout backdrops for monologues and murder.
Writing Style: 7.5/10
Schwab writes like someone who sharpened her prose on a whetstone labeled Tumblr aesthetics—and I mean that mostly as a compliment. The writing is lean and stylized, filled with snappy one-liners, brisk chapters, and short, sharp sentences that bleed noir. But the nonlinear jumps? Borderline whiplash. Every time something emotionally interesting was happening, the story swerved into a different timeline like it was dodging accountability. It keeps things fast and clever, but also occasionally flattens emotional impact for the sake of clever structure. Still, the dialogue pops and the pacing zips, and there are moments where the prose does that “sinks into your spine” thing I crave.
Schwab writes like someone who sharpened her prose on a whetstone labeled Tumblr aesthetics—and I mean that mostly as a compliment. The writing is lean and stylized, filled with snappy one-liners, brisk chapters, and short, sharp sentences that bleed noir. But the nonlinear jumps? Borderline whiplash. Every time something emotionally interesting was happening, the story swerved into a different timeline like it was dodging accountability. It keeps things fast and clever, but also occasionally flattens emotional impact for the sake of clever structure. Still, the dialogue pops and the pacing zips, and there are moments where the prose does that “sinks into your spine” thing I crave.
Plot: 6.5/10
So: college rivals, near-death experiences, a bad science experiment that turns into a murder spree, and a long con revenge plan years in the making? Delicious. In theory. In practice, it’s a little too neat. Victor’s scheme to frame Eli by dying in front of cops is very “villainy PowerPoint presentation” in its precision. The EO origin idea—survive death, get powers—is awesome, but the actual execution feels underbaked. There’s not much exploration of what that means, beyond giving everyone trauma and spooky talents. The plot thrives on setup and payoff, but the connective tissue is often thin. You can feel the cool moments being positioned like chess pieces—but when you zoom out, the board looks a little empty.
So: college rivals, near-death experiences, a bad science experiment that turns into a murder spree, and a long con revenge plan years in the making? Delicious. In theory. In practice, it’s a little too neat. Victor’s scheme to frame Eli by dying in front of cops is very “villainy PowerPoint presentation” in its precision. The EO origin idea—survive death, get powers—is awesome, but the actual execution feels underbaked. There’s not much exploration of what that means, beyond giving everyone trauma and spooky talents. The plot thrives on setup and payoff, but the connective tissue is often thin. You can feel the cool moments being positioned like chess pieces—but when you zoom out, the board looks a little empty.
Intrigue: 8/10
This book is a page-turner. I was never bored. Victor’s cold brilliance kept me locked in, and every encounter with Eli had just enough tension to keep the slow-burn rivalry sizzling. The nonlinear structure might sap some of the emotional build, but it does a hell of a job keeping curiosity alive. I wanted to know what happened in the dorm. I wanted to see who would pull the trigger. I even wanted to know how the heck a tween necromancer ended up riding shotgun in a murder van. The intrigue here isn’t just plot-driven—it’s character-fueled. And even when I rolled my eyes, I kept reading.
This book is a page-turner. I was never bored. Victor’s cold brilliance kept me locked in, and every encounter with Eli had just enough tension to keep the slow-burn rivalry sizzling. The nonlinear structure might sap some of the emotional build, but it does a hell of a job keeping curiosity alive. I wanted to know what happened in the dorm. I wanted to see who would pull the trigger. I even wanted to know how the heck a tween necromancer ended up riding shotgun in a murder van. The intrigue here isn’t just plot-driven—it’s character-fueled. And even when I rolled my eyes, I kept reading.
Logic/Relationships: 6/10
Listen, this book wants to be a morality tale in a philosophy major’s leather notebook—but it’s running on vibes more than internal logic. The EO system is handwavey at best. Trauma + death = powers, but the actual mechanics are shrug emoji science. Some people get healing, others get pain dials, and Sydney gets “life insurance for dogs.” There’s zero consistency and even less explanation, and that’s fine—if you’re not asking me to take it seriously. But Schwab is asking, so I started poking holes. The relationships mostly track emotionally (Victor and Sydney, Victor and Mitch, Victor and revenge), but they’re often built more on archetypes than depth. Victor and Eli’s rivalry is clearly the core of the book, and while it’s deliciously obsessive, it also leans pretty hard on subtext and history we’re not entirely shown.
Listen, this book wants to be a morality tale in a philosophy major’s leather notebook—but it’s running on vibes more than internal logic. The EO system is handwavey at best. Trauma + death = powers, but the actual mechanics are shrug emoji science. Some people get healing, others get pain dials, and Sydney gets “life insurance for dogs.” There’s zero consistency and even less explanation, and that’s fine—if you’re not asking me to take it seriously. But Schwab is asking, so I started poking holes. The relationships mostly track emotionally (Victor and Sydney, Victor and Mitch, Victor and revenge), but they’re often built more on archetypes than depth. Victor and Eli’s rivalry is clearly the core of the book, and while it’s deliciously obsessive, it also leans pretty hard on subtext and history we’re not entirely shown.
Enjoyment: 7.5/10
Did I enjoy it? Hell yes. Did I love it? Not quite. Vicious is the literary equivalent of a hot goth in a philosophy class—looks amazing, talks a big game about moral relativism, but under the eyeliner and Nietzsche quotes, you realize he’s just really, really into himself. That said, I had fun watching the chaos unfold. I enjoyed the stylishness, the genre play, the gleeful darkness. I just wanted a little more substance to back up the swagger. It’s fun. It’s sharp. It’s just not as deep as it thinks it is—and that’s okay, as long as you go in with your eyeliner smudged and expectations adjusted.
Did I enjoy it? Hell yes. Did I love it? Not quite. Vicious is the literary equivalent of a hot goth in a philosophy class—looks amazing, talks a big game about moral relativism, but under the eyeliner and Nietzsche quotes, you realize he’s just really, really into himself. That said, I had fun watching the chaos unfold. I enjoyed the stylishness, the genre play, the gleeful darkness. I just wanted a little more substance to back up the swagger. It’s fun. It’s sharp. It’s just not as deep as it thinks it is—and that’s okay, as long as you go in with your eyeliner smudged and expectations adjusted.
Final Verdict: 7/10
Vicious is stylish, twisted fun—a revenge story soaked in moral ambiguity and superpowered spite. But beneath the trench coats and trauma lies a book that’s more cool than complex. Worth the read, especially if you like your antiheroes with baggage and body counts, but don’t expect emotional catharsis. This isn’t a book about redemption. It’s about revenge. And Victor Vale always gets what he wants—whether you buy it or not.
Vicious is stylish, twisted fun—a revenge story soaked in moral ambiguity and superpowered spite. But beneath the trench coats and trauma lies a book that’s more cool than complex. Worth the read, especially if you like your antiheroes with baggage and body counts, but don’t expect emotional catharsis. This isn’t a book about redemption. It’s about revenge. And Victor Vale always gets what he wants—whether you buy it or not.
Graphic: Animal death, Torture, Violence, Blood, Murder, Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Drug use, Emotional abuse, Self harm, Suicide, Toxic relationship, Religious bigotry, Suicide attempt, Gaslighting, Toxic friendship
Minor: Cursing, Mental illness, Physical abuse, Fire/Fire injury, Abandonment, Alcohol
Vicious is a morally tangled, superpowered revenge narrative that deals heavily in pain—both physical and emotional. Characters gain their powers through traumatic near-death experiences, and the text doesn’t shy away from describing the brutal processes behind those transformations. Victor's ability revolves around pain manipulation, which often translates to detailed depictions of bodily harm, while Eli’s healing factor is tested repeatedly through acts of deliberate self-injury. The violence is sharp and intimate, often reflecting the characters' damaged psyches more than any larger heroic agenda.
Religious trauma underpins much of Eli’s worldview, leading to a messianic, murdery sense of purpose in hunting down others like him—especially unsettling given the lack of empathy most EOs seem to share post-transformation. One character exerts supernatural control over others’ actions, including in romantic and potentially sexual situations, raising questions about consent and coercion that are never fully resolved within the book. There are also complicated themes of grief, abandonment, and found family, particularly around Sydney, a child character with resurrection powers and a past of parental neglect.
While there’s no on-page sexual assault, the power dynamics throughout—especially in Serena and Eli’s relationship—carry strong undertones of manipulation and control. A dog is killed and revived multiple times (it’s emotionally intense but not lingered on), and characters including a child are placed in mortal danger more than once.
Overall, this is a dark and stylish story steeped in violence, vengeance, and philosophical ambiguity—fascinating, but far from gentle.