Review: Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor
Aug. 9th, 2010 03:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)

Title: Who Fears Death
Author: Nnedi Okorafor (Nnedi.com)
Genre: Science Fiction
Page Count: 386
Publisher: DAW
Basic Plotline: In a post-Apocalyptic world, Onyesonwu is Ewu, the child of a violent rape of her mother, a Okeke woman by a Nuru man. From her early years traversing the desert with her mother to her adolescence in Jwahir, Onyesonwu not only comes of age but comes into the incredible powers that she has as a sorceress, as well as the destiny that awaits her, a destiny that will touch everything and everyone around her.
The Positives: There are times when I have occasion to spill out a lot of adjectives in praise of a novel, and this is one of them. There are so many to choose from: gorgeous, harrowing, fierce, fantastic (in all the senses of that word), surreal, visionary. But I believe incandescent is the one that is most accurate, because there are some books, that through the story they tell you, leave a mark on you as a reader and on the way you think of certain things but they also shine lights into shadowed places, and tell a story that radiates it's own meaning outward.
While Nnedi Okorafor is a talented YA writer, this book is not simply just a coming-of-age tale written for an adult audience. The focus of the book not just about getting the protagonist, Onyesonwu, to a certain point of maturity as the story progresses, but rather it is about the arc of a human life and of the ways that the world can change, the ways that time moves both in history and in present to collide with each other.
In a very important way, this is a novel about time travel without time machines, it is about traveling backwards and forwards through one's own timeline, through the timeline of the world, it is about rewriting the written things by finding their origins and their future trajectory. It's about prophecy and second chances and rebirth.
Thematically and symbolically rich, Who Fears Death is painted with brushstrokes both broad and bold enough to show a world after a systemic collapse where the desert has spilled over after ecological turmoil and the old systems are broken and forgotten, with some remnants of technology and old stories exist, severed from their context and origins, existing because they have always existed, being forgotten and slowly erased. But it also paints with painstaking detail, and indeed, the ending of the novel hinges on a few precious paragraphs, and perhaps even the specific words chosen for those paragraphs.
Some may worry about being able to read and understand a novel that is so quintessentially African, stripped of so much of the Euro/American influence that has become secret code to readers, cluing them in and becoming it's own kind of pseudo-universal language, even when it isn't wanted, needed, or a good thing. But as a U.S. reader who has never left the confines of the Northern Hemisphere and has only ventured out of the Continental U.S. once her in life, I had no problems with becoming a kind of detective, rooting through the clues and context in the novel to understand vocabulary or situations that otherwise I had no frame of reference for. I think an observant reader should do fine, provided they pay close attention and absorb as much information from the text as possible.
Neither does this novel shy away form discussing and even showing hard truths and the struggles still being fought. Rape, genocide, sexism, racism, female genital mutilation are not ignored or even blunted. They are shown as the factors they are in Onyesonwu's world and in the path that her life takes. I appreciated this as a reader, because to see these things rather than being told of them made the things that Onyesonwu goes through and accomplishes all the more real and credible. As a writer, I appreciated what a fine line Okorafor must have been treading in the writing, revising, and editing of this book. I think she can claim a resounding success for herself with this book. Because the harsh realities do not overwhelm the book, and I was not given the sense that such bitter, agonizing realities were displayed gratuitously, pornographically, or for the morbid delight of those who are fortunate enough to find themselves distantly removed from the stinging impact of such things.
There is a very dreamy quality to this novel and at times it might seem to the reader to be meandering, especially when Onyesonwu and her companions stop to spend time among the Vah, and usually that isn't something I enjoy, but in this novel, I think the tone of a dream or a vision is essential to telling the story the way it must be told, because much of Onyesonwu's life, and indeed Mwita and Luyu and Binta's lives are dictated by dreams and nightmares, visions, prophecies and other things which are not concrete or tangible but very real to them and to the world at large. In fact, this book is very much about how the intangible - from fate and destiny to love and identity - not only shape the tangible, but in many ways are more powerful than the things that can be held, touched, seen, smelled, and heard plainly. I also think the journey format of it, with the twists and turns and the detours were necessary for the ending to be as powerful as it was.
Okorafor also understands something about suspense that I think most writers tend to neglect when using foreshadowing or outright prophecy as part of the plot, and that is that the anticipation in a reader isn't just in "will this event happen" but "how will it happen? what will the world look like after it does? what will remain, what will be lost?". I found that to be part of the ingenuity of this novel. The reader knows early on in the story what will become of Onyesonwu, but it is what will become of the world and how this ending will come about that keeps the journey meaningful.
I also think Okorafor does something unique, in that her ending isn't just a wrapping up of the plot details. A lot of novels in any genre I read tend to treat the last 50 pages of the novel as a way of making things stop, but the ending of Who Fears Death is actually the beginning of another story. In some ways, it feels like the last 50 pages of this book should be the first 50 of another book, because even as we complete this particular journey of Onyesonwu's, we see things beginning. Time and relativity shift under the reader's feet, and it's quite wonderful.
Speaking of genre, I think it's quite an achievement that Okorafor joined science fiction and magical realism so seamlessly together because they're very much genres that seem contradictory. Science-fiction is very sharply focused on explanations and the literal, while magical realism is the fantastic literature of the metaphorical and unreal. There are definitely recognizable traits from hard science fiction novels in Who Fears Death - technology, a future setting, science, a quest and need for knowledge, the idea of an Apocalypse, but there are also so many traits from magical realism: power and abilities that exist as facts, not as the central mystery and the origins of which are not explained the blending of the fantastic into the mundane in a way that U.S.-style urban fantasy has never truly managed as a genre. Indeed, urban fantasy puts the mundane and magical next to each other, exciting the reader by virtue of contrast. Magical realism blends them so that they become indistinguishable or at least continuous and connected. How Onyesonwu conducts the more ordinary parts of her life (love, coming-of-age rituals, loss, learning, friends, family relations) are all inextricable from her magic.
The character of Onyesonwu is not always sympathetic to the reader but she is well-drawn and deeply real. Even though the narration belongs to her for the majority of the book (other voices are heard in short bouts elsewhere), the audience views her not as perfect, but as flawed and at times we're very aware of those flaws and how they're affecting her and those around her. At times, Onyesonwu is an alarming character, filled not just with rage but with stubbornness and an inherent disquiet in her being, but like the novel itself, this is something that helps to tell this story. The supporting cast is likewise very real if not always pleasant. Mwita is at times a charming suitor, a loving companion, and a frustrating opponent and obstacle to Onyesonwu, as are her friends Luyu, Binta, and Diti. I appreciated this after having read far too many novels that involve protagonists who become the center of the lives of their friends, family, and companions to the point of absurdity. In short, I didn't have the "helpfulness" problem I do with so many other novels. A wide range of humanity itself is shown in characters major and minor. We see the bickering of friends and lovers as well as the unfathomable cruelty and fathomless charity and goodness that people as a whole have been capable of since the beginning.
Also, fans of Okorafor's YA works will smile at the reference to the Forbidden Greeny Jungle Field Guide in one of the later chapters in the book.
The Negatives: The negatives are all more along the "trigger warnings" line of thought rather than "the author did this wrong/this is what I would have done" type.
There are graphic scenes of rape, female genital mutilation, murder, and violence in this book. Okorafor does not cut the camera away for comfort's sake. Onyesonwu's Eleventh Year Rite (in which her clitoris is removed) is shown from beginning to end. The rape of her mother is shown. Various violent deaths and attacks are also shown. There's no gentling of them, but like I said above, it is not done gratuitously and I think that one has to really feel the impact of the Nuru's genocidal actions against the Okeke and their use of rape as a weapon in that quest to cause an entire race of people to stop existing in order for this book even to work. I don't think to mention it or whisper about it is enough. I think a reader has to become a witness to understand the importance of what Onyesonwu is doing and of the woman herself.
However, not all readers can cope with this kind of graphicness. These are topics that are painful, real, and ever-present for a lot of readers out there. And this is partly why I would not, even though the author has written a lot of fantastic YA books, hand this novel to young person unless I was damn sure that they could handle it and that I or someone trustworthy would be there to talk about it with them and help the synthesize the content and ideas and graphicness within, because even for an adult mind this book is potent and disturbing and painful even as it's gorgeous and transcendental. If you want to introduce a young reader in your life to Okorafor (and that would be a wonderful idea), I'd suggest starting with Zahrah the Windseeker if it's appropriate.
I think the graphicness is a negative if you're not able to handle it or are looking for a quick comfortable beach read. This is not a throw away book meant for a brain on idle. This is a book that should, ideally, be engaged with thoughtfully and fully. So, exercise discretion and self-care when reading this.
Other than that, I really have no negatives to present. I'm sure some readers will be frustrated by the length of the journey through the desert and feel like the time spent with the Vah is tacked on and not necessary, but I think Okorafor shows the reason that Onyesonwu needed to encounter the Vah (not just for plot reasons, but for more metaphorical ones) and rewards the reader with a look into a society that's fascinating and fantastic all on its own. I wouldn't mind reading entire novels about the Vah! The ending and the meaning of the book may elude some on the first reading, but I'd advise reading again. This is a very delicate, carefully constructed book and even re-reading some past chapters in light of new information/events is called for.
CoC Score: 10/10. This book deals well with the realities of hatred towards those of mixed race and racism and genocide, and explores what it means to be in between worlds as well as part of them.
Gender Score 10/10. I think it is because of and not despite the showing and discussion of rape and female genital mutilation that this book is a powerful exploration of a new kind of feminism/womanism. This book is proof that when an author is careful, respectful, knowledgeable, and compassionate that such topics can be dealt with in a way that doesn't dehumanize or belittle the real life survivors and victims of such things, because they are a reality for a great many women across the globe. Onyesonwu grapples constantly with gender roles in Jwahir society and what it means to be a woman and what that should and shouldn't entail.
GLBT Score: 0/10. There were no overt GLBT situations or characters mentioned here, save for this:
There were five couples making love, one of them two women who loved and hated each other. (Okorafor, 212)
I was a little sad to see that there weren't more mentions or exploration of queerness in this novel, because I think there was certainly room for it to go along with many other things here. As a bisexual person myself, I was sad but not overly bothered (others may be, and that's 100% valid), and I didn't feel like the lack of showing GLBT people in the forefront was a sign of disdain or purposeful erasure on the author's part, and I think that of Okorafor did choose to explore queerness, it would be done in just as wonderful a manner as all the other topics and realities and identities she takes on in this book.
Ablism Score 5/10. Not a lot of overt presence of PWD or situations with disability. Occasionally Onyesonwu's powers leave her in need of assistance and help with self-care from others, and I think this is explored respectfully. A compelling case, however, can be made for Onyesonwu and her mother both experiencing forms of PTSD, especially her mother, and that's why I give it the five rating, because if that is one's reading, I think the character of Onyesonwu's mother and the situations she's in and the things the reader learns about her are done with great compassion and care.