School of Shards is the third and final volume in the English translation Vita Nostra (Our Life) series, following Assassin of Reality and the novel that gives the series its name. Julia Meitov Hersey translated each of the original novels from the Russian into English, and it’s important to stress the inequivalence of the English translations from the original novels, first in the titles of the sequels to Vita Nostra.
As I understand it, the original Russian title of Assassin of Reality literally translates to something along the lines of “Making Test Corrections” and School of Shards to “Picking up the Pieces,” or “Collecting Fragments.” Rather than taking the series title from the first novel, the Russian employs “Metamorphoses.” While the English titles certainly apply — and come from text in the novels — I would say that the Russian titles are closer to capturing the themes of the individual sequels and the overall series. This isn’t to criticize Hersey’s translation (I’m certainly not qualified to do so) but to simply note the difference.
Additionally, at least for the third novel, Hersey notes in the afterward that she made more significant changes to the novel beyond the text, including alteration of certain characters and plot elements. These were done in consultation with Marina Dyachenko, and I have faith that these were done with good reason for the English-speaking American audience. Again, this is just to clarify that reading the Vita Nostra series in English, and a reader’s response to/interpretation of it, will certainly be a different experience than those fortunate to comprehend the original.
Marina’s husband and co-writer Sergey unfortunately passed away before the trilogy had been completed (at least the English translation of it, I’m unclear on the timeline). But regardless, like the first two volumes of the series, School of Shards is still a product of their shared minds and sweat, along with Hersey’s artistic vision as translator.
Given this is the final book of a trilogy, I’m breaking this review into two sections: one for readers who have already started the series, but first one for readers who haven’t dived into any of it yet.
For those who haven’t yet read Vita Nostra:
Read Vita Nostra.
Seriously, read it as soon as you are able. It’s a tremendous work of speculative fiction and of literature in general. Whether you intend (or are willing) to continue the entire series or not, read Vita Nostra. Though the novel doesn’t include in a way that I would call definitive, but rather open to interpretation, the novel itself nonetheless works as a stand-alone work. For a relatively long period that’s exactly what it was, particularly in its English translation before a commitment to translate the entire series was made.
Both marketing and reader-reviewers have taken to classifying the first book and series as “Dark Academia,” often drawing comparisons to Harry Potter in the book’s set-up. At a cursory glance, okay, that’s fair enough. The form of the novel adheres to the coming-of-age trope, with the passage of education hurdles through the years at a private institution teaching the magical.
Only magical isn’t really the proper term in this case, with its connotation of Western fantasy or the social practices of other cultures used in place of, or alongside Western concepts of science. Transcendent might be a better term, linking to concepts of philosophy and of physics closer to what the school of Vita Nostra instructs, something that turns a human into a non-human, a metamorphosis.
While vacationing at the beach with her mother, Sasha Samokhina meets the mysterious Farit Kozhennikov, who demands she perform strange tasks with a warning of fearful consequences that could arise from failure to complete them as instructed. She’s rewarded with each completion of a task by coughing up strange gold coins, which Farit explains may be turned in for admission to the Institute of Special Technologies. Failure to go, will of course result in unfortunate consequences.
Arriving at the school, she is met by fellow confused first year students, second year students who appear physically damaged and socially distant, an absence of third year students who supposedly exist, and rigidly demanding faculty who assign incomprehensible readings and memorizations from obscure textbooks, with no way of explaining to the students what is expected for them to learn or perform. But if they should fail to keep up or study adequately on their journey of becoming something beyond human, something important, they face being reported to their advisor (e.g. Farit) or worse.
Vita Nostra found deserved great success with readers because it combines a familiar narrative framework and compelling journey of growth for its young heroine with the darkness and mystery of its world-building. Just what Sasha is at the Institute to study, why the faculty act how they do, why the students are each so different in how they are handling the experience, all begins to become clear as the novel continues, and Sasha undergoes metamorphosis into a version of what the goal of this school has for its students.
The mixture of familiar with mysterious makes it easy for readers to get into Vita Nostra on the surface of its plot without become overwhelmed by the philosophy and speculative fiction that underlies it. That speculative fiction could even be dubbed science fiction as it concerns physical concepts like wave/particle duality, alternate dimensions or realities, and the nature of the universe itself. The science of those sorts of concepts merge with the philosophical sides of those through ideas such as the nature of purpose, or good/evil in the universe, and elements of human experience like love, fear, and learning.
I have seen some reviewers state the Vita Nostra might be the best description of the difficulties and rewards of academic life ever put down into a story. I would basically agree with this, and state further that the entire series follows through on this metaphorical premise even more, even though the sequels change in overall framework and approachability for readers compared to Vita Nostra. Reading the first novel allows one to get the main messages and effects of the entire series in just one volume, but a fuller exploration of its themes — and an expansion of its great number of possible interpretations — can be garnered by continuing to read the Dyachenkos’ series vision through the lens of Hersey’s translation.
For those who have read Vita Nostra and/or Assassin of Reality:
Fans of Vita Nostra met Assassin of Reality with mixed reactions. Much shorter, the sequel deals with the outcome of the first novel’s conclusion and takes place with Sasha’s third year at the Institute, one that is spent ‘correcting the mistakes’ of the exam capstone of her second year. The novel lacks the coming-of-age framework of the first book, as well as the mystery eventually revealed as the Great Speech, and its nature. However, the end of Vita Nostra is extremely open-ended to interpretation, making the sequel still have at least some air of mystery to it regarding what happened to Sasha at the end of the first book, and why (for instance: what exactly does it mean to be a Password?).
On the other hand, simply by writing the sequel, the Dyachenkos mess with a reader’s experience of Vita Nostra, albeit in a way that I guess is fitting for the themes of the series. It’s kind of like Schrödinger’s cat. Vita Nostra leaves readers with a conclusion that is a continuum of possibilities and meanings. The sequel now opens the box to reveal the state of the cat. Readers are given a possible consequence of Sasha’s experiences in that exam room. The character Sasha becomes an observer that now solidifies a new reality that is still continuous with her first two years of experiences at the Institute while also wiping away a huge swatch of her past reality, including people who were in it. Not only that, but she must redo things from that past to correct mistakes. But what does all that mean when time, space, and reality are all malleable concepts to which the Great Speech gives an illusion of fixation?
Assassin of Reality thereby upturns a lot of assumptions and expectations a reader may have had from Vita Nostra into a quagmire of metaphysical complexity. Unlike the first book, there isn’t enough to the plot of the sequel to ‘sugar-coat’ its complex speculative, philosophical underpinnings. Sasha seems to be back at square one, and by its end seems to be in the exact same state of uncertainty to leave things completely up to reader interpretation. Through it all the Dyachenkos interject an intersecting plot of romance between Sasha and a pilot. But it’s a relationship that inherently appears contrived and difficult to believe/understand for readers because it is an emotional and romantic attachment designed and implemented by Farit purposefully to engage the remaining human side to Sasha.
Within the academia metaphor side of the series, Assassin of Reality correctly gets compared to graduate school. A time of continued chaos, confusion, and fear that accompanies increased independence and a realization that what was learned before was incomplete, or even not precisely accurate.
Whether you’re a reader who appreciated Assassin of Reality for what it was or read it with heightening disappointment in comparison to Vita Nostra, I would argue that School of Shards is worthwhile, if not essential, to read and complete the series and truly appreciate it in its totality. Vita Nostra can be read as a stand-alone. If you go on, you really do need to read both. If you dig the deeper themes and complexity of interpretations in Vita Nostra, reading the series is well worth it. If you read Vita Nostra and just simply enjoy it for its framework and familiar ‘dark academia vibes’ and coming-of-age plot, it’s probably best to just stop there.
School of Shards continues the academic metaphor to address what it is like for the former student to now go out and teach, only to discover that the students seem increasingly less prepared for their studies, less receptive and engaged, and more hostile. If you’re an educator, School of Shards might be a little too familiar.
Yet it also takes the continuing line of themes through the series to form an argument for the importance of tough love in education (not just in a formal school setting necessarily, but also in general of raising and rearing children into responsible adulthood.) Through the books Sasha holds onto a side of herself that looks on the fear and punishment she faced with a derision that compels her toward finding a way to eliminate them from education. As Password she creates a reality where love and positivity dominate, and fear/punishment (embodied by Farit) no longer exist. And in School of Shards we now see that this has resulted in a collapse of the Great Language, of reality itself. Sasha now must look to fragments from her past (including people previously erased from one reality) to again correct her mistakes and repair her universe in more of a balance.
The interpretation of School of Shards, and the series entire, could be taken at the academic level or even the level of human existence itself. It can be looked at in narrow social terms, or larger almost religious views of good and evil, God and the Devil. While about metamorphosis the series is also about balance and contrasting dualities. The book and the series become a conclusion about embracing a universe of contradictions at all levels, from the quantum to that of direct human interaction and experience.
Unlike its predecessor, School of Shards becomes more approachable to general readers by returning a bit to the plot framework of Vita Nostra, now told through the point of view of Sasha’s half-brother of book one and her ‘spiritual’ offspring of book two. Through those characters readers get compelling new perspectives to the story to accompany Sasha’s point-of-view.
Like both novels before it School of Shards ends conclusively, yet within a world of possibilities of what readers can take home from it in message and interpretation. Both each novel, and the series, are works that can be read by individuals for completely different experiences, unique things to focus on, particularly relevance and interpretation. This means the series is also one that would benefit from rereading during life to discover new realities and above all, possibilities.
