Review of Bunny: A Novel by Mona Awad
Sometimes a book finds you in the most unexpected way. For me, that was Bunny by Mona Awad—a title that popped up everywhere, from my TikTok feed to casual conversations. Its blend of dark humor and surrealism was enough to spark my curiosity. Once I picked it up, I was not prepared for the wild ride that ensued.
Set in the hallowed halls of Warren University, Bunny introduces us to Samantha Heather Mackey, a scholarship student who feels distinctly out of place among her wealthy, creatively rich peers, the titular Bunnies. Their saccharine demeanor and even their vocabulary—a shared term of endearment like “Bunny”—initially repulse her, as she prefers the company of her own darker imaginings. I immediately related to her outsider status, as many readers likely do; there’s something about those who feel like they don’t belong that resonates deeply within us.
Awad’s writing style is both lyrical and bizarre, weaving a tapestry of vivid imagery and unnerving moments that echo the disorienting experiences of navigating social cliques. As Samantha receives an invitation to the Bunnies’ exclusive “Smut Salon,” the plot takes a turn for the surreal, leading the reader down a rabbit hole of twisted desire, creativity, and ultimately, danger. The pacing shifts seamlessly from tension to absurdity, keeping you on the edge of your seat, wondering how far Samantha will go to fit in. There were moments I laughed out loud, while other times I felt an unsettling chill as the darker elements of obsession and madness unfolded.
Awad pens some truly memorable lines that linger long after you turn the page. The Bunnies’ strange rituals and the line, “We were just these innocent girls in the night trying to make something beautiful. We nearly died. We very nearly did, didn’t we?” encapsulate the fragility of creativity and connection in an environment that cultivates competition and envy. Margaret Atwood’s endorsement, calling it “genius,” hardly feels exaggerated as you experience the book’s multifaceted layers.
While some readers may find the narrative confusing and surreal—just look at the polarized reviews—there’s beauty in the chaos. I, for one, appreciated how the bizarre elements mirrored the labyrinthine nature of anxiety and isolation. The Bunnies’ enchanting facade cleverly masks a twisted reality where friendship and rivalry blend into something far more sinister. I found myself questioning: what does it mean to belong, and at what cost?
If you’re a reader seeking a fresh, audacious take on loneliness, belonging, and the dark corners of female friendship, Bunny is a must-read. It invites you to grapple with its complexities and recognize the power of our imaginations—even when they’re leading us down shadowy paths. For those willing to lean into its chaos, it offers a uniquely rewarding experience, one that’s both bizarrely funny and harrowingly insightful.
In the end, I closed the book feeling exhilarated, much like the dizzy highs and lows of Samantha’s experiences. Bunny isn’t merely a story; it’s a bold exploration of creativity and the often terrifying implications of our desires. Are you ready to hop down the rabbit hole? I promise, it’s a journey unlike any other.