Oliver Marks just finished serving ten years for a murder he may or may not have committed. Honestly, that’s the hook that gets everyone. When M.L. Rio released If We Were Villains in 2017, she wasn't just writing another campus novel. She was basically summoning the ghost of Shakespeare and trapping it in a conservatory setting. It’s dark. It’s obsessive. It’s messy.
If you’ve spent any time on BookTok or Bookstagram, you know this book is the holy grail of the Dark Academia subgenre. People talk about it in the same breath as Donna Tartt's The Secret History. But why? Why does a story about seven young actors at Dellecher Classical Conservatory, all obsessed with the Bard, continue to trend nearly a decade later?
It’s because it feels real. Even the pretentious parts.
The Brutal Reality of the Dellecher Seven
The story revolves around a tight-knit group of fourth-year acting students. They don't just study Shakespeare; they live it. They breathe it. They speak to each other in verse during breakfast. It sounds exhausting, right? But Rio makes you believe it's the only way they know how to communicate.
You have the archetypes: the hero, the villain, the tyrant, the temptress, the ingenue, and the extra. Oliver, our narrator, is the "nice guy," the one who fills the gaps. But as the competition for roles intensifies and the pressure of their final year mounts, the lines between the plays they are performing—Macbeth, Julius Caesar, King Lear—and their actual lives begin to dissolve.
Then someone dies.
When Richard, the group’s resident bully and "tyrant," is found dead in the lake, the tragedy isn't just a plot point. It’s the inevitable conclusion of a group dynamic that was already poisoned. The genius of If We Were Villains lies in how it handles the aftermath. It’s not a whodunit in the traditional sense. It’s a "why-did-we-do-it" and "how-do-we-live-with-it."
Why the Shakespearean Structure Actually Works
Usually, when authors use Shakespearean quotes, it feels like they’re trying too hard. It’s clunky. Not here. M.L. Rio has a background in Shakespearean studies, and it shows. She structures the entire novel into five acts, complete with prologues and scenes.
It mirrors the dramatic structure of a tragedy:
- Exposition: We meet the group and feel the underlying tension.
- Rising Action: The casting for Caesar goes wrong, and the power balance shifts.
- Climax: The night at the lake. The blood. The silence.
- Falling Action: The cover-up and the crumbling of their friendships.
- Catastrophe: The trial, the sacrifice, and the eventual release of Oliver.
The use of Julius Caesar as the pivotal play is no accident. It’s a play about betrayal and the idea that "et tu, Brute?" is the ultimate sting. When the students find themselves reenacting the violence of the stage in real life, the reader is left wondering if they were always this way or if the art corrupted them.
Dark Academia and the Aesthetic of Obsession
Let’s be real for a second. If We Were Villains thrives because of its aesthetic. It’s wool sweaters, flickering candles, dusty libraries, and the smell of old parchment. This "Dark Academia" vibe isn't just about fashion; it's about the danger of elitism.
These characters are isolated. They are in a literal castle, cut off from the rest of the world. They have no parents mentioned in detail, no outside friends, and no safety nets. This isolation creates a pressure cooker. It makes the stakes feel cosmic, even though they’re just twenty-somethings in Illinois.
Critics often compare it to The Secret History, and sure, the DNA is there. Both involve a group of students obsessed with the classics and a murder. But where Tartt focuses on the intellectual coldness of Greek studies, Rio focuses on the raw, bleeding emotion of the theater. Acting requires you to break yourself open. It requires a lack of boundaries. That’s where the "villainy" starts.
The Ending That No One Can Agree On
If you haven't finished the book, look away. Seriously.
The ending of If We Were Villains is one of the most debated finales in modern fiction. Oliver goes to jail to protect James. That much we know. But the final scene—the letter, the Shakespearean allusion to Pericles, the "Fide et Amore"—it leaves everything hanging.
- Is James alive?
- Did he fake his death?
- Was it a final performance?
Rio doesn't give us the satisfaction of a neat bow. She leaves us in the same position as Oliver: waiting, wondering, and haunted. This ambiguity is what keeps the fandom alive. It forces you to go back and reread the text for clues you missed the first time. You start looking at James Fane not as a tragic hero, but as someone who might have been the ultimate manipulator.
Common Misconceptions About the Characters
A lot of readers get frustrated with Oliver. They think he’s too passive. They want him to stand up for himself. But Oliver’s passivity is his defining trait. He is the observer. In Shakespearean terms, he’s the one who survives to tell the story, like Horatio in Hamlet. If he were more assertive, the tragedy wouldn't happen.
Then there’s the idea that Richard was the only "villain." That’s too simple. Every single member of the Dellecher Seven is complicit. They all watched him drown. They all lied. The title isn't If He Were A Villain. It’s If We Were Villains. It’s a collective descent.
How to Lean Into the Experience
If you're looking to get the most out of this book, or if you're planning a reread, there are a few ways to deepen the experience.
- Listen to the plays. If you aren't a Shakespeare nerd, the quotes might fly over your head. Listen to a professional recording of Julius Caesar or King Lear. Hearing the rhythm helps you understand why the characters speak the way they do.
- Annotate for color. Rio uses color symbolism constantly. The red of the blood, the grey of the lake, the gold of the stage lights.
- Research the "Dellecher" archetype. Look into the real-life history of elite performing arts schools. The level of competition described in the book isn't actually that far from reality.
If We Were Villains is a reminder that art is dangerous. It’s a warning about what happens when we lose ourselves in the stories we tell. Whether you love the characters or hate them, you can't deny the grip they have on the cultural imagination.
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To truly understand the impact of the novel, your next step should be to look at the specific Shakespearean scenes Rio mirrors in each chapter. Start with Act 4, Scene 3 of Julius Caesar—the tent scene. Compare the dialogue between Brutus and Cassius to the dialogue between Oliver and James right after the murder. The parallels aren't just decorative; they are the key to the entire mystery. Read the text again with the plays open next to you. You’ll find a completely different book hidden in the margins.