Review: Death of the Author - Nnedi Okorafor

Genre: Science Fiction Published: William Morrow, January 2025 My Rating: 3/5 conflicted stars

“We cannot escape our creators. I keep saying this. You can't erase that which made you. Even when they are gone, their spirit remains.”

I’m not sure if I remember a the last time was that I felt thís conflicted about a book… my reading-journey was a rollercoaster that swerved from hate to love, and ultimately landed in a very mixed area. It took me a little while to detangle my thoughts in order to put them to paper, but I’ll give it a go.

The Story:

Death of the Author opens with Zelu, a disabled Nigerian-American woman, who finds herself unemployed and without direction in her life after being fired from her teaching-job over an academic dispute with a student. During an emotional low, she impulsively begins the process of writing a sci-fi novel, unlike anything she’s ever read or written before.

When Rusted Robots is picked up by a major publisher, it becomes an instant best-seller and skyrockets Zelu into the spotlight as a celebrated author.

Interspliced with sections from Zelu’s novel about consciousness, AI and robots at the end of the world, we follow her journey of fame and infamy as an author. A tale that leads from America to Nigeria and eventually out of this world, covering themes of belonging, disability, creation and identity.

The Good, or why it could have been a 5-star:

Let me start off with the good, because when this book is at its best, it is stellar. By far my favourite element was the disability representation, both in our protagonist Zelu, as well as woven throughout the Rusted Robot-story. Honestly; 10/10, no notes, I would not have changed a thing!

I especially loved the discussion surrounding Zelu’s choice to use the exo’s, for which she’s criticized as “being ableist”. I’ve seen other reviewers mention the same view, but as a disabled person myself, I don’t feel this is the case at all. The exo’s are an aid and do not erase or hide Zelu’s disability. Using a disability-aid to ease yourself is a personal choice and is never ableist, in my opinion. I loved the way the book approached that topic.

Speaking of representation; there’s plenty of it here. Not just in the line of disability, but race, class and (general) non-conformity alike. Zelu is the beating heart of this representation, and I loved her characterization. She’s unabashedly and authentically herself, non-conforming and loud and proud. I will get back to some elements of her character in in “the bad”, but overall, I think its wonderful to see a character with this attitude portrayed, even if it makes her unlikable at times.

Its themes of disability, writing and creation, and the dilemma between true “reaching for the stars-ambition” and chasing your dreams vs conforming to expectations deeply resonated with me at the current stage in my life. So much so that, had it not been for what I’m about to discuss, this was on its way to be a favourite of the year.

Finally there’s the ending “twist”, that completely made me rethink everything I’d just read before it. This is one of these revelations that ties the book up in a perfect little bow (or should I say, Mobius Strip of itself) whilst being thematically and structurally fitting.

The Death (and Ghost) of the author:

I intentionally put this as a separate paragraph, in between the good and the bad, because I genuinely feel it’s a little of both. Nnedi Okorafor as an author is present on every single page of this book. Proudly, prominently and persistently. If you know/read-up on the author a little, you will see how much of this story is aligned to her personal experiences, (political- and social) opinions and vision. Só much so, that it took me out of the story at many essential moments. In other words: the voice of the author was só loud, that I struggled to hear the story over it.

Again, I’d like to stress that this isn’t a “bad thing”, but it was noticeable and took away from my connection to the characters and story.

The Bad, or why it could have been a 1-star:

Here’s the issue that ís bad. As a voice-piece – an expression of the author, and even a bit of meta-genre commentary on the sci-fi genre – it is great. As a story it is not actually all that good. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was reading the authors self-insert wish fulfillment fantasy-fanfiction. Zelu as a character, beyond her outward bravado and personality, lacks any development. She remains a static character throughout the entire story, because she – the author – is already perfect and doesn’t need changing… (see how that could be a problem?)

In addition, Zelu herself rarely moves the plot forward herself. Instead, events and opportunities are handed to her, strangely enough almost always by white men. This is not engaging storytelling; this is a protagonist who’s just along for the luxury ride.

Between being handed a book-deal on her first attempt by a white publisher, being given the experimental exos by a white-male-doctor, and finally accepting a ride into space from discount-Elon Musk, I truly questioned what Zelu's agency was in all of this?!

The book packs a lot of large events into a single story. Yet rather than feeling like a story, where one event leads to the next as a result of consequence, the book feels like just a string of “and then this happened-s”.

Finally, and here’s where I might be in dangerous territory, Zelu and Nnedi both walk a very tight rope when it comes to optics. There’s a line between nonconformity and pride, vs narcissism and entitlement. We’re supposed to let that slip, because Zelu is thát good of a writer, except that isn’t represented by the snippets of the book-inside-the-book we get to see. It ultimately made Zelu unsympathetic to me, and I’m not sure if this was intentional or a reflection of the authors views on herself…

Overall, mixed with a bitter aftertaste, made extra bitter by the fact that I loved elements of the story so much.

You can find this book here on Goodreads.