Death of an Author Review
By Celeste Daniels
Hello, audacious readers!
Summer is (finally) coming to an end and, if it were anything like mine, it truly flew by. While much of this summer was spent on break with the book club, I’m glad we can end the season with a true statement piece with Death of an Author by Nneki Okorafor.
Zelu has been pushed to the edge. Despite doing her best to reach her family’s vision of success while being disabled and going for an “impractical” career in writing, the world feels as though it is against her. She is single at her sister’s wedding, a “shameful” thing to be as a woman in her 30’s, she lost her job as a professor at an Ivy League college, and her novel has received another rejection from a publisher.
Broke, drunk, and angry at the world, Zelu writes a book unlike any other book she has written before, a sci-fi drama about robots and AI facing the end of the world after humans go extinct. Suddenly, everything changes. Almost overnight, Zelu becomes an instant bestseller, has millions of dollars, and has even found love. But the highs come with many lows. The more successful Zelu becomes, the less control she has over her own narrative. As the lines between what is real and fiction start to blur, the reader is forced to answer the question, who really holds the power in a story: the author or the audience?
Reading this story was probably one of the most validating but frustrating experiences I’ve ever experienced because at all times, I could understand Zelu but also I couldn’t.
I could understand her determination as a writer and stubbornness not to take the more predictable road. However, I couldn’t understand why she refused to be more involved in the shaping of it if it were that important to me. I understood her refusal to settle just because it was easier. I didn’t understand why that translated into everything becoming a fight or more difficult in the process. I could understand her frustration and confusion around the public opinion of her own personal choices. I didn’t understand why that never translated into her becoming more versed in navigating being a public figure.
I understand her disappointment every time her story gets misrepresented…yeah, that one just sucked all around. It’s the sad, unfortunate part of publishing and having an audience that doesn’t always reflect you.
Similar to her family, who made me so mad during much of the story, much of my frustration with Zelu was rooted in feeling as though she were making things more difficult for herself than they had to be while also doing my best to be open about the fact that I couldn’t fully understand her.
While Zelu is a black woman in publishing, she’s also a disabled woman with the mentality of a true artist. Her desire is to tell her stories, be understood, and then be left alone in peace. But the world refuses to let black women have that kind of simplicity and that often results in conflict with everyone around you. There were so many times that both Zelu and the people responding to her were uncompromising that it felt like I was in stuck in the middle of the argument too.
Because of all the turnmoil and frustration, the point of the story didn’t hit me until the very end of the story (of course). For so long, I just wanted Zelu to be ease up because I assumed the title was the truth, that the final chapter would be her approaching death. Except she didn’t. Instead, she continued reaching for the stars—literally going to space, a dream she had long given up.
And on the other side of that worry, I realized that my frustration was rooted in care. I wanted Zelu to be okay. I wanted Zelu to be better. More than anything, I wanted Zelu to be happy and I figured that acceptance of other opinions or coming to terms with “reality” would be the path to that.
But perhaps that’s the ultimate flaw and beauty of the reader. We’re merely a witness. Even if Zelu didn’t make it, who am I to say that’s not Zelu’s happy ending or the right ending? Because in the end, despite all the change and all the strife, Zelu knew the story was her’s and her’s alone. Opinions come and go but the story prevails. It’s what Zelu knew. It’s what Anakara, the real creator of the story learned. it’s what I finally understand.
I hope you enjoyed Death of an Author! Stay tuned for our September read. Make sure to check out the Audacity Book Club merch and get your “Not ya mama’s book club” hats today. Also, keep an eye out for the “Not ya mama’s book club” sweatshirts, coming soon.
As always, don’t forget to read audaciously!
