Topherlytle
Do I think the author is a gifted storyteller? Absolutely.
Is this sci-fi? No. This is Lit Fic that flirts with sci-fi.
Do I know how to rate this thing? Not really.
Do I recommend this book? I think so.
When I write reviews, I don't aim for objectivity, I respond subjectively. On an objective level, prose, plot, character development, Death of the Author is a solid. Okorafor's craftsmanship is clear. The structure is creative, the writing is (mostly) sharp, and the central narrative is compelling.
But subjectively? I struggled.
Okorafor has created a fully realized protagonist, but one so deeply selfish and self-serving that I found myself frequently frustrated. And yet, to her credit, I kept reading. That speaks volumes about Okorafor's talent. She pulls you in, even when you're mad at the protagonist. Honestly, the book-within-a-book (Rusted Robots) is something I'd read on its own.
Beyond the character's selfishness and the bordering-on-nihilistic tone, I also wrestled with some of the “interview” chapters. Very few added depth and complexity; most felt shoehorned in and disrupted the flow for me.
And then there's the ending. Oof. I really did not care for the ending. I respect the author's choices, but it didn't feel as satisfying or complete as the rest of the novel. It left me all kinds of meh.
So, where does that leave me?
I'd give Death of the Author a 3.5 for now. I plan to reread it next year and may adjust that rating. Regardless, Nnedi Okorafor is an immensely gifted writer, unafraid to explore the complexity of human nature, family ties, and personal ambition. The novel reflects the messiness of life. And while I personally wished for a bit more hope, humility, or gratitude in its pages, I recognize, some will simply continue to choose self over anything else.
Do I think the author is a gifted storyteller? Absolutely.
Is this sci-fi? No. This is Lit Fic that flirts with sci-fi.
Do I know how to rate this thing? Not really.
Do I recommend this book? I think so.
When I write reviews, I don't aim for objectivity, I respond subjectively. On an objective level, prose, plot, character development, Death of the Author is a solid. Okorafor's craftsmanship is clear. The structure is creative, the writing is (mostly) sharp, and the central narrative is compelling.
But subjectively? I struggled.
Okorafor has created a fully realized protagonist, but one so deeply selfish and self-serving that I found myself frequently frustrated. And yet, to her credit, I kept reading. That speaks volumes about Okorafor's talent. She pulls you in, even when you're mad at the protagonist. Honestly, the book-within-a-book (Rusted Robots) is something I'd read on its own.
Beyond the character's selfishness and the bordering-on-nihilistic tone, I also wrestled with some of the “interview” chapters. Very few added depth and complexity; most felt shoehorned in and disrupted the flow for me.
And then there's the ending. Oof. I really did not care for the ending. I respect the author's choices, but it didn't feel as satisfying or complete as the rest of the novel. It left me all kinds of meh.
So, where does that leave me?
I'd give Death of the Author a 3.5 for now. I plan to reread it next year and may adjust that rating. Regardless, Nnedi Okorafor is an immensely gifted writer, unafraid to explore the complexity of human nature, family ties, and personal ambition. The novel reflects the messiness of life. And while I personally wished for a bit more hope, humility, or gratitude in its pages, I recognize, some will simply continue to choose self over anything else.