![A+ #BookReview: Death of the Author by Nnedi Okorafor A+ #BookReview: Death of the Author by Nnedi Okorafor](https://www.readingreality.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/214329001._SX315_.jpg)
Format: eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via Edelweiss
Formats available: hardcover, ebook
Genres: African Futurism, books and reading, robots, science fiction
Pages: 448
Published by William Morrow on January 14, 2025
Purchasing Info: Author's Website, Publisher's Website, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Bookshop.org, Better World Books
Goodreads
The future of storytelling is here.
Life has thrown Zelu some curveballs over the years, but when she's suddenly dropped from her university job and her latest novel is rejected, all in the middle of her sister's wedding, her life is upended. Disabled, unemployed and from a nosy, high-achieving, judgmental family, she's not sure what comes next.
In her hotel room that night, she takes the risk that will define her life - she decides to write a book VERY unlike her others. A science fiction drama about androids and AI after the extinction of humanity. And everything changes.
What follows is a tale of love and loss, fame and infamy, of extraordinary events in one world, and another. And as Zelu's life evolves, the lines between fiction and reality begin to blur.
Because sometimes a story really does have the power to reshape the world.
My Review:
Don’t let the title fool you. This book is nothing like what that title leads you to imagine. Or anything like what you might possibly be imagining.
The story is a Möbius strip. The end is the beginning is the end is the beginning in an endless and utterly fascinating loop.
There’s a story here – and there’s a story within that story – and both are utterly captivating but are entirely different.
From the start, it’s Zelu’s story. She’s Nigerian-American, she’s paraplegic, she’s not all that interested in marrying, and her career – such as it is – is one that her large, extended family doesn’t seem to want to understand.
Which is par for their course, as what they really don’t seem to want to understand is Zelu herself. She doesn’t fit into ANY of the boxes that her family expects her to fit into – and she can’t stop beating at the limitations of those boxes even as she does her damndest to expel herself from them.
The thing is, her family might be right about a lot of the things that press her down. On the other hand, her family has done their damndest to emplace many of the attitudes and expectations that weigh her down.
All out of love, of course. No matter how much it hurts.
So when she’s fired from her barely-supporting job as an adjunct professor of creative writing, and she receives yet another publisher’s rejection of the fruits of her own creative writing – a novel she’s been shopping around for YEARS – while she’s at her sister’s destination wedding in Tobago – she has a meltdown. And it’s a big one.
But it’s also a productive one. In the depths of her despondency, her acknowledgement that everything she thought she’d done isn’t working for her – at all – she acts out and breaks out. She pours her heart and her feelings into a novel that she can’t make herself stop writing even though it’s nothing like anything she’s ever done before.
And it turns out to be a literary science fiction masterpiece.
Which is where the other half of The Death of the Author comes in. Because we get to read Zelu’s groundbreaking work, Rusted Robots, as the literary world and the entertainment world do their damndest to chew it up and spit it out in a form that will get the most money out of the most markets.
And if the author becomes a media darling and then a media scapegoat, well that’s the price of fame for a woman who doesn’t fit ANY of the molds that anyone wants to put her in – because she never has.
And never, ever will.
Escape Rating A+: The Death of the Author got its hooks into me early, and those hooks didn’t release until nearly 4 in the morning, when I turned the last page and my mind went spinning as the creator became the created and the act of creation worked both ways and it made me rethink everything I’d read.
Yes, I went into the story expecting Zelu to die in the end. The format of her part of the story, transcripts of interviews of the people in her life telling her story from their own biased perspectives, leads the reader to think this was written after her death.
But it’s the story that captivates, as each ‘contribution’ is set against Zelu’s own narrative of her own journey, when we get to hear the screams she kept on the inside because no one EVER seems to have truly seen her or listened to her or believed in her.
It’s also a story about the facile judgments of the anonymous faceless masses of the internet, and the way that their approbation never fills her up because it’s always manufactured and false and just as easily turned against her as their narrative requires.
And then there’s the story she wrote, the story that seems to consume everyone it touches, Rusted Robots. It’s a post-apocalyptic, post-human story of robots and artificial intelligences acting on their programming. We are their creators, we made them in our own image, and they act entirely too much like us whether they look like us or not.
Rusted Robots reads like a different variation on the seven robotic circles of hell in Service Model, even as the rusted robots themselves, Ankara and Ijele, transcend their programming, together. That their world is saved by the power of storytelling gave the whole book a breathtaking, OMG WTF happened, utterly SFnal ‘Sensawunda’, at the same time that it sends the reader’s mind scurrying back to the beginning to watch the whole, marvelous epic unfold again.