Review: Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor

Sometimes a book can’t be easily classified, and that can be a good thing. Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor (Book Depository, Powell’s Books, Indiebound), her first novel aimed squarely at an adult audience, is one such book. Is it urban fantasy? Well no, it’s set in mostly rural setting, but certainly shares some characteristics. Is it epic fantasy? There is a quest, there is a group undertaking said quest, there are sorcerers and the equivalent of a dark lord, but few who read Who Fears Death would classify it as epic fantasy. Is it World Fantasy? Well, it isn’t the usual Western fantasy with its European and/or American roots – but World Fantasy is a pretty meaningless term and equally unclassifiable. African Fantasy? The setting is decidedly African and the folklore, customs and conflicts are all rooted in Africa, but does any book deserve to be geographically limited? Is it Feminist Fantasy? Issues of the rights of women lie at the heart of this novel, but should it be so pigeon-holed? How about YA? Who Fears Death is a coming-of-age story, full of teen-angst, certainty and uncertainty, though its heavy weight and timelessness appeal equally to adults. Is it near-future science fiction? Many elements of Who Fears Death fit the near-future sci-fi model, but there is magic and sorcery, which can only mean fantasy, right? Is it post-apocalyptic fantasy? Who Fears Death has the feel of taking place after a collapse of modern society as we know it, but even this fails to capture the book and all its facets. Really, I could keep going, but I think the point is made. Who Fears Death is all and none of these classifications, and it’s all the more wonderful for it.

Onyesonwu is a child of rape and violence. Raised in the desert, she is an outsider both literally and racially in the village she and her mother settle in. Her budding magical powers further isolate her as she seeks to apprentice to the village’s sorcerer, who refuses her because she is a woman. Eventually achieving some of the training she needs, Onyesonwu finds herself exiled from her village and on a quest to confront and kill her father and free the enslaved peoples of the Seven Kingdoms.

Who Fears Death is the coming-of-age tale of an alienated, spirited young woman. Onyesonwu fits this trope like a glove, but this is an example of embracing the trope and doing it well. Onyesonwu is completely believable – bitter, angry, confused, certain and uncertain. And once she discovers the true nature of her conception, it drives her to confront and kill her father (who coincidentally does a pretty good imitation of the ‘evil dark lord’ fantasy trope). Rape in fiction is often a controversial and rather lazy means of characterization. However, rape is a historic and present-day reality, and in the case of Africa, a tragically engrained part of war-driven culture. In places like Darfur there are explicit campaigns to rape women and produce ‘lighter-skinned’ offspring. In Who Fears Death, as much as rape is motivation for Onyesonwu, it is also a reflection of this sort of horrible campaign, it’s own form of genocide.

Who Fears Death is also a story of the strength of the human spirit in such trying times. It is a love story between two young lovers – a realistic version with all of the downs included. It’s the story of a group of friends bonded by womanhood rites as they struggle through adolescence. It’s a story of revelation to the tragedy around and the sacrifice made by the most surprising people. It’s a quest to end slavery and to seak revenge. It’s a condemnation of culturally ingrained oppression of women and brutal rites like female circumcision. But ultimately it’s story of hope for the future and faith that all this can be overcome.

As I keep getting at, Who Fears Death is a lot of things, but most importantly, it’s a beautifully written book in a setting can only be considered unique in the world of fantasy. Okorafor’s writing magically reveals the story, effortlessly endearing characters to the reader, and engineering a story that simply must be read. The African feel of Who Fears Death may be what sets it apart from its contemporaries, and it may be the reason many choose to read or pass it by, but the timeless, human story within is the real reason to pick it up.

The bottom line is that Who Fears Death is the chance that readers should take. It celebrates the true diversity of SFF literature and reveals the struggles of a part of the world often overlooked. It’s a timeless, human tale that I highly recommend. 9/10