Fifteen Years With Diana Bishop, and The Blackbird Oracle Still Surprised Me
(Justine Castellon / Just Reading Nook) I approached A Discovery of Witches the way a researcher approaches a promising primary source, ready to take it apart, catalog its influences, and stay properly detached about the whole thing. That plan lasted about a chapter. I devoured it in two sittings and immediately felt caught. Vampires and witches falling in love was not new territory in 2011. What was new was a vampire who talked genetics and a witch who talked archival research, and an author who clearly knew both subjects cold. Fifteen years, four sequels, and one prequel later, Deborah Harkness has brought Diana and Matthew back one more time in The Blackbird Oracle, and it is, without question, the strangest, slowest, and most emotionally interior book she has written in this world. I did not expect to like it as much as I did. I also did not expect to spend this much time thinking about why it works so differently than everything that came before it.
In The Blackbird Oracle, the fifth installment of Deborah Harkness’s All Souls series, we return to the world of Diana Bishop and Matthew de Clairmont. Set several years after the events of Time’s Convert, Diana and Matthew are now parents to seven-year-old twins, Pip and Becca. The story kicks off with a formal demand from the Congregation to test the magical abilities of their children, echoing the trials Diana faced in her youth. This leads Diana to uncover a hidden branch of her family, the Proctors, and explore the depths of her own magical heritage. As she delves into higher magic under the guidance of her great-aunt Gwyneth, Diana must confront her family’s dark past and her own fears, all while protecting her children from the Congregation’s scrutiny.
“We are both caught in its tangles and knots, sometimes the hunter, sometimes the hunted. And sometimes, we are so lost in love’s magic that we neither know nor care whether we are predator or prey.”
COMPARISON WITH PREVIOUS BOOKS
The Blackbird Oracle takes a distinctly different pace compared to the earlier books in Deborah Harkness’s All Souls series. While the original trilogy thrived on a tightly woven blend of pulse-pounding action, sweeping romance, and deep historical immersion, this fifth installment steps back to focus more intently on character backstory, personal growth, and the nuanced exploration of Diana Bishop’s magical lineage.
I fell head over heels for Diana and Matthew’s enchanting yet tumultuous love story back in A Discovery of Witches, Harkness’s 2011 debut, and I still think about how effortlessly it pulled me in. Diana, a reluctant witch and Oxford historian, calls up a bewitched alchemical manuscript, Ashmole 782, deep in the Bodleian Library, and that one small act of curiosity is enough to summon a fantastical underworld of witches, daemons, and vampires straight to her door. Matthew Clairmont among them. The first book was magnetic, pulling you into the clandestine allure of Matthew’s vampire longevity and Diana’s witchcraft, all set against the haunting beauty of Madison County. Sarah Bishop’s fierce, no-nonsense energy and the peculiar quirks of the Bishop ancestral home felt alive on every page. People called it “a wonderfully imaginative grown-up fantasy with all the magic of Harry Potter and Twilight,” and honestly, that comparison still tracks more than a decade later.
Then Shadow of Night picked up the exact moment book one left off and dropped Diana and Matthew into 1590 London. This was Harkness leaning all the way into what she does best, since she’s a historian of science and magic in early modern Europe by trade, and you can feel that expertise on every page. We walk arm in arm with the couple through Elizabethan court life, the intellectual buzz of the School of Night, and a detour to Rudolf II’s court in Prague, and it never once feels like homework dressed up as fiction. Matthew, revealed here as the poet Matthew Roydon, gave the book some of its best twists. The Chicago Tribune called it an “addictive tale of magic, mayhem and two lovers,” and I’d agree, even if it’s the slowest burn of the three.
And then there’s The Book of Life, the 2014 finale, which finally answers everything the first two books spent over a thousand pages setting up. Diana and Matthew return to the present, old allies regroup, older enemies converge, and the whole mystery of what the witches actually discovered centuries ago finally gets its payoff. It’s the most satisfying of the three for me, not because of any single twist, but because Harkness actually commits to finishing what she started. That’s rarer in trilogies than it should be.
Book four, Time’s Convert, was rich in historical storytelling as well, blending the strengths of Harkness’s academic background with her characters’ own adventures, and further extending the world Harkness had built across the trilogy.
Which brings us back to book five, and to the question that actually matters: does a series built on momentum, mystery, and a ticking clock still work once all three of those things are gone?
HARKNESS’S STYLE, THEN AND NOW
What makes all four of the earlier books work, even when they meander, is that Harkness never writes like someone borrowing history for atmosphere. She holds a PhD and spent decades as a working historian before she published a single novel, and it shows in how confidently she moves through centuries. Her sentences are dense and unhurried, more interested in getting a ritual, a manuscript, or a piece of alchemical theory exactly right than in rushing you to the next plot beat. That instinct is the trilogy’s greatest strength and its most common complaint in the very same breath. When it works, as in Elizabethan London or Diana’s early magic lessons, it’s immersive in a way most fantasy romance never bothers to be. When it doesn’t, the pacing sags under the weight of its own research.
The Blackbird Oracle is where that tendency finally catches up with the series. Harkness is still writing with the same scholarly patience, but with far less plot to anchor it, that patience starts to read as drift.
WHY THIS SERIES STILL HAS SUCH A GRIP ON ITS READERS
Here’s the thing about the All Souls world: it did not need to still be this popular fourteen years after the trilogy wrapped, and yet it is. A Discovery of Witches and Shadow of Night alone have sold more than a million copies in the US, the trilogy has been translated into 38 languages, and the 2019 television adaptation, with Teresa Palmer and Matthew Goode, introduced an entirely new generation of readers who came for the show and stayed for the books. Jodi Picoult blurbed this new installment, praising how it explores “the magic, pain, and promises mothers pass onto their children,” and honestly, that’s as accurate a one-line summary of this book’s emotional center as I could write myself.
SIMILARITIES WITH HARRY POTTER
The Blackbird Oracle draws fascinating thematic parallels to the Harry Potter series, making it a captivating read for those who love narratives steeped in magical heritage and self-discovery. Both series explore the idea of young, gifted individuals being tested to uncover their abilities, invoking a mix of anticipation, tension, and wonder. The Congregation’s testing of Diana and Matthew’s twins, Pip and Becca, is reminiscent of Harry Potter’s magical examinations, though with a darker, more complex emotional undercurrent. If you’re familiar with Hogwarts’ tales of trials and revelations, you’ll easily recognize echoes of that magical tension here.
One of the most notable additions in this installment is the introduction of wands, which were notably absent in the first four books. This shift in magical tools brings a familiar element from Harry Potter’s world into Harkness’s universe, but it’s worth noting that it takes on a deeper, more ritualistic meaning here. While wands in Harry Potter are often used as practical conduits of power, in The Blackbird Oracle, they signify higher magic, a realm Diana is only beginning to explore. This new facet of magic adds a layer of mystique and expands the universe, but it also marks an interesting departure from the organic, hands-on spellcraft seen earlier in the series. It’s a bold move by Harkness, though some fans of her earlier books might find it jarring.
The similarities go beyond tools and involve broader themes of hidden legacies and long-buried family secrets. Diana’s discovery of her father’s Proctor lineage—a sprawling, powerful family she never knew existed—mirrors Harry Potter’s discovery of his own heritage and its inextricable link to the larger magical world. Both protagonists are plunged into the past to understand their future, but while Harry’s heritage aligns him with fate and prophecy, Diana’s requires her to confront uncomfortable truths about her family and their use of dark magic. This complexity adds maturity to the story, which distinguishes it from Harry Potter’s more straightforward battle between good and evil.
What truly sets The Blackbird Oracle apart is its historical grounding and more introspective tone. Unlike the whimsical and often adventurous escapades of Harry Potter, Harkness roots much of the narrative in the weight of historical context. For instance, the Proctor family’s ties to Salem and its witch trials lend a depth of realism and gravity to the story. Harkness’s ability to seamlessly blend historical nuance with fictional magic gives her world a textured, authentic feel that Harry Potter admired but never fully embraced.
Ultimately, while Harkness borrows some familiar elements—a young generation of magical children, hidden families, and all the wonder accompanying the discovery of power—she weaves these into her unique narrative tapestry. The Blackbird Oracle isn’t simply a magical coming-of-age tale; it’s a multilayered exploration of heritage, identity, and the ways in which past and present collide. For readers, it’s an opportunity to relive the enchantment of discovering new magic while appreciating the depth and complexity that only Harkness can deliver. It’s a book where familiar tropes are reimagined through a historical and mature lens, ensuring it never loses its own distinct identity. Whether you’re a Potterhead or a dedicated fan of Harkness’s work, this installment will leave you reflecting on its echoes of the familiar and its bold strides into the new.
CRITIQUE OF THE STORYLINE
While The Blackbird Oracle offers a deep dive into Diana’s family history and magical abilities, it has received mixed reviews regarding its pacing and character development. The book could have been more concise, as it sometimes meanders through detailed backstories and domestic scenes. The introduction of new family members and magical elements, such as the Proctors and higher magic, can feel a bit forced and inconsistent with the established universe. Additionally, some beloved characters from previous books, like Matthew, seem to take a backseat, which might disappoint fans like me of the original trilogy.
Ultimately, while The Blackbird Oracle may lack its predecessors’ electric drama and rich romantic passion, it offers a quieter, more contemplative lens. For readers willing to adjust their expectations, this divergence may reward patience with an expanded understanding of Harkness’s magical world, and tantalizing anticipation of what’s to come for the Bishop-de Clermont family. Whether it fully lives up to its predecessors will depend on what follows, but for now, it acts as a bridge into uncharted waters, promising that the story’s heart is far from finished.
EXPECTATIONS FOR READERS
Readers who have followed the All Souls series will likely appreciate the continuation of Diana and Matthew’s story, despite some of the book’s slower moments. The world-building remains enchanting, and the setup for future conflicts promises exciting developments. However, those expecting the same level of action and romance as the earlier books might find this installment a bit lacking. Overall, The Blackbird Oracle is a worthwhile read for fans of the series, offering a deeper understanding of Diana’s character and setting the stage for what’s to come.
If you’ve read all four previous books, you’re reading this one regardless of what I say, and you should. If you’re new to the series, do not start here. Start with A Discovery of Witches, let yourself fall for Diana and Matthew the slow way, and earn your way to this one.
SO, SHOULD YOU READ IT?
The Blackbird Oracle is not the strongest entry in this series, and it isn’t trying to be. It’s a bridge book, one that trades the trilogy’s momentum for something slower and more personal: a mother confronting her own family’s darkest history while trying to protect her children from repeating it. It meanders. It occasionally overexplains. And yet I closed it feeling more curious about where the Bishop-de Clermont family goes next than I have in years, which tells you the foundation Harkness built across five books and fourteen years is still standing, cracks and all. Slow burn, imperfect pacing, absolutely still worth your time.
Justine Castellon is a brand strategist with an innate ability to weave compelling narratives. She seamlessly blends her professional insight with her passion for literature. Her literary works include romantic drama novels—Four Seasons, The Last Snowfall, Gnight Sara / ‘Night Heck, and I Love You, Sunday Sunset. With her ability to tell stories that linger long after the last word, Justine leaves a mark not only in the world of branding but also in the hearts of her readers.
www.justcastellon.com
