Death of the Author

“But when she finally just asked him what he believed the story meant, he’d said, ‘Why don’t you tell me? What I think of my own work doesn’t matter. The reader decides what it’s about, right? Isn’t that what you said “death of the author” meant?’”

Zelu is fired after she insults an arrogant student, who uses Zelu’s own words to abdicate responsibility for his work. The student’s words become a self-fulfilling prophecy, foreshadowing the ways Zelu’s work will grow larger than her intentions around it. This leads to a parasitic relationship between herself and her readership, who demand that she write more, regardless of how she feels about the way the perception of her work is evolving.

“Stories were the greatest currency to us, greater than power, greater than control. Stories were our food, nourishment, enrichment. To consume a story was to add to our code, deepen our minds. We felt it the moment we took it in. We were changed. It was like falling. It was how we evolved.”

Part of the world building in Rusted Robots revolves around the Humes’ reliance on stories for a greater sense of purpose. Their feelings reflect Zelu’s need to tell stories to engage with her circumstances and the world around her on an emotional level. In this way, Zelu’s act of world building also becomes a metafictional technique, commenting on the power of writing through a piece of writing.

“Whenever she asked one of them for a ride, they responded with this weird blend of pity, control, and duty. She didn’t think they even knew they did this. It always left her feeling pathetic and childlike, even when it was one of her younger siblings driving her. Oh, to be free of that feeling.”

Zelu’s first experience with the autonomous vehicle reminds her of the fraught relationship she has with her family. Where the vehicle allows her greater mobility, her family members have always responded to her requests for accommodation begrudgingly, responding as though they resent her disability as a burden on their lives. This passage underscores navigating challenging family dynamics as a theme, as it establishes the family dynamic.

“She could move herself around without any human’s aid. This SUV would help her—no, it could be like an extension of her. She could be like a robot with built-in wheels ready to carry her whenever she wanted.”

Zelu’s reliance on the autonomous vehicle becomes the first step in her growing relationship with future science, foreshadowing later plot developments, like the introduction of the exos and organic augmentation. These technologies become tools for Zelu as a person with paraplegia, highlighting Asserting the Agency of People With Disabilities as a theme.

“A snake should not try to be a lizard, right? My sister has always had a problem with reality. That’s what family is for. Family grounds you. But I will say…

I wish I’d have shut up more often with her. Let her talk more. Let her spill. Let her just be her weird, impulsive self […] I’ve read Rusted Robots several times now, and each time, I see more and more of my sister behind each word.”

This passage characterizes the dynamic between Amarachi and Zelu in a deeper way, showing that Amarachi is conscious of the hostile way she treats Zelu sometimes. Amarachi signals that her family’s tendency to shut Zelu down has forced her to repress her feelings in ways that allow them to pop up in her work. Amarachi’s wishes offer a potential path forward in their relationship.

“For all your talk about being automation, you both sound like humans to me.”

Ngozi compares Ankara and Ijele by citing their resemblance to humanity. This is ironic for Ijele, who abhors the physical world as a link to humanity. It gives Ijele and Ankara the foundation to seek common ground, eventually allowing them to resolve their differences, as well as their larger conflict.

“Only an angry woman could write that shit. All that drama and war, even after the end of humanity.

[…]

Young lady, it’s a victory that you allowed yourself to write it.”

The old man who speaks to Zelu understands that her book was written out of frustration. This helps to provide the subtext behind her book: Without the means to resolve her issues with the way the world sees her, Zelu is forced to speak her truth to power in her writing. This is why the old man validates her for allowing herself to write the novel, recognizing the bravery that comes with speaking that truth for the very first time.

“‘I feel no love for bodies,’ Ijele finally said. ‘I have experienced the physical world, and it is nothing special. This is nothing to cherish. Body is not a god. That is flawed human thinking. The experience of the world is much deeper and wider than any one body can hold.’”

Ijele characterizes herself in this passage by explaining her revulsion toward the physical world, raising the issue of the advantages and disadvantages of embodiment. This passage also serves as a cogent reminder of the frailty of the human body, which is ostensibly at the heart of Zelu’s novel, Rusted Robots. Ultimately, Ankara’s quest to save automation proves that Ijele’s argument is too dismissive of the value of the physical world.

“You said you loved swimming in the ocean because it was a reminder that you were part of so much more. And that vastness didn’t make you feel insignificant. It made you feel specific and powerful and…you.”

This passage illuminates the symbolic role that open water plays in Zelu’s life. Zelu enjoys swimming in the ocean because it makes her individuality seem significant in the grand scale of the universe and “powerful” because of the way her body exists in the water. Hugo uses this aspect of Zelu’s character to build a connection with her, allowing her to trust him because he can understand her. Zelu’s experience in the water also gives her a hint of what she might experience if she can fulfill her dream of going to space.

“Tomorrow is where my hope lives.

I can’t be normal, so I’ll be something else.”

On the eve of her first exos demonstration, Zelu writes this passage in her journal to express her ambitions for the test. Zelu’s statement could easily apply to the larger endeavor that defines her quest, allowing it to serve as a statement of her character motivations. Because the world fails to see her as a normal person, she accepts the opportunities to become something other than “normal,” knowing that her augmentations will change her life for the better in the future.

“All I kept thinking was that whatever would come next, it was all my fault. It wasn’t the tree, it wasn’t the ash borer beetle who ate it away, the boys, bad luck, fate, destiny, none of it, none of them…It was my fault.”

In this passage, Zelu expresses her guilt about feeling like she caused her paraplegia. She sees it as arrogance, a fatal flaw that makes her doubt herself every time she makes a major life decision. Zelu experiences anxiety because she doesn’t know if she is making a mistake on the scale of the accident that caused her paraplegia, which is why she turns to different sources of support to progress in her journey.

“We hadn’t reached a peace. We argued, we debated, we dismissed. We each hoped to make the other more like us. But eventually the fact became too obvious to dispute: Ijele and I were friends. The moment she’d returned on her own, the friendship was solidified. This was a risky and unheard-of friendship—a Hume and a Ghost. In human terms, it was like a mammal befriending a disease. Nonsensical, unnatural, and potentially lethal.”

This passage illustrates the development of the relationship between Ankara and Ijele. Although it is tangential to the hero’s quest that Ankara has set out on, this turning point is significant to the larger themes of Zelu’s novel since it represents the possibility for connection and understanding between two opposing arguments about embodiment and the physical world. This hints that peace between the Ghosts and Humes is possible if only they can find common ground as well.

“Spying eyes and chattering mouths were everywhere. But this wasn’t their business. Why hadn’t she thought about what would happen when people saw her? […] She’d been so focused on proving something to herself. Her fault. She hadn’t been thinking. Reckless.”

This passage drives The Perils of Fame as a theme by showing how Zelu can never enjoy privacy in public ever again. Her attempt to validate herself by using her exos at the airport causes a global stir, ultimately earning the ire of her family. This upsets Zelu because she realizes how, now that she is recognizable, everything that she does is about more than her quest for self-affirmation.

“But instead, I saw her…become. To me, my sister was like a spirit, a sort of superhero. That evening was the first time I really began to see Zelu as a human being, and she was awesome.”

Tolu makes this statement at the end of his interview, affirming his sister’s individuality while recalling memories of their youth. Importantly, Tolu makes the distinction between seeing his sister as an abstract, distant figure and seeing his sister as a person when he starts to see her through her curiosity about the world around her. He stresses that the truth about his sister is defined by her inner world, not her disability, which is how most people tend to see her.

“Don’t get lost in the woods, Zelu. I think that’s why Msizi brought you here, to the desert. So you wouldn’t get lost in yourself.”

This passage offers an early resolution to the perils of fame as a theme. Since Zelu relies on social media as an alternative source of affirmation, she gets lost in her emotions when she finds herself being canceled. Wind reminds her that her life is bigger than her relationship with her readers and fans and that to overcome her anxiety over how she is perceived, she simply needs to step back and look at herself from a larger perspective.

“People like you and I like adventure, have to go on adventures, even when it annoys the people we love. We like to see things, test limits…but that doesn’t mean we won’t regret going.”

Zelu recalls this statement from Secret, underlining their common character trait of adventurousness; his emphasis on “have to” highlights that it is an inherent need in both of them. Apart from characterizing Secret, this passage also drives the emotional connection between them, showing that Zelu is much closer to her father than anyone else in their family because they both understand their mutual need for adventure. This shared character trait also forms the basis of Zelu’s argument when she appeals to Omoshalewa about her decision to visit space, allowing her to shift the family dynamic toward acceptance.

“I am proud to be from the type of family I am from. I know that here in the United States, such things are not understood. You all spin everything that is not familiar to you as either terrible or less than you. You only see things through your narrow lens and personal experiences. It is your weakness. I understand. But my family is a beautiful one, even if it is not perfect. We are royalty.”

Omoshalewa declares her pride for her Yoruba heritage, decentering the American perspective toward her cultural practices in this passage by highlighting its “narrow lens.” This resonates with Okorafor’s stylistic intention to write in the tradition of Africanfuturism, which decenters the Global West in favor of writing centered around the African continent.

“I couldn’t understand how a war with a group of automation could be more pressing than saving the planet. I cited human novels and short stories that warned against ignoring the larger threat. I even brought up the ancient issue of climate change and how the humans had chosen to focus on other things, leading to their downfall.”

In this passage, Ankara describes her struggles with convincing the Humes to address their looming annihilation at the hands of the Trippers. This challenge allows Ankara to draw a comparison between automation and humanity, suggesting that future technology does not necessarily equate to progress. In the robots’ actions and decisions, Ankara sees the worst traits of humanity, as they prioritize their hostility toward one another and the “other” over the common threats that affect them all.

“‘We cannot afford to lose you. A lot of people look up to you…even when they say they hate you.’

Zelu paused, raising an eyebrow. ‘People hate me?’

He smiled. ‘Some. You know how it is. People at home will hate you most.’”

This passage deepens Zelu’s relationship with her readers and fans by making her realize that her work is still necessary despite the public criticism she has received. The captain of the beach ferry reminds Zelu that criticism is inevitable, especially considering the different perspectives of the diverse Nigerian culture. He encourages her to press on, underscoring that her work is necessary for asserting the agency of people with disabilities.

“My mind has always been very logical, methodical. It’s what makes me a good engineer. I can make connections when there are connections to be made. But Zelu? She could connect the invisible. She would listen, and as she processed what she heard, things would appear to her that weren’t there before. She could put all of this into words, so everyone could see it. I was always glad she had this ability. With what happened to her, she needed it. But I never saw it as a magic that would move the world the way it has. None of us did.”

Bola stresses Zelu’s outsider status by contrasting her with their family in this passage. Because they all work in the sciences, Zelu’s siblings fail to see the value of her work until it causes a visible shift in global culture. This awakens them to the power of art in general and Zelu’s writing in particular, leaving them in awe of her ability to navigate dynamics in ways they never thought necessary.

“You’ve been shrugging off the house they built around you since you wrote that book, and this was the last straw. They don’t know what to do now. You rewrote your narrative.”

Uncle Ralph makes a keen observation about Zelu’s character arc thus far in the novel. He points out that Zelu’s actions have all been in the service of asserting a different view of herself from the definitions placed on her by her family. In this way, she is not only writing her novel but also redefining the way people see her by speaking her truth in her work. This passage becomes key in asserting the agency of people with disabilities as a theme.

“She thought about Rusted Robots and the main character, who understood deep in her circuits that true power was in the harnessing of it, not the possessing of it. And when you were aware of the moment you harnessed power, that was when it was most difficult to navigate.”

Zelu has this insight while she is learning to overcome the trauma of her foiled kidnapping attempt in Nigeria. She fully recognizes her responsibility as a public personality and that she must learn to harness that fame. Although her fame makes her life difficult to navigate, it also gives her a vast platform to speak her truth. She must therefore learn to navigate her life more carefully than she has in the past, adding to her character development.

“What makes you think something so unprecedented is going to behave according to the only laws you know? How egocentric. How human.”

Udide the Spider passes judgment on the robots in this passage, condemning them for their narrowmindedness. This passage resonates with Omoshalewa’s proud statement about the cultural practices of the Yoruba and how they are regarded in the US. Udide’s statement ties into Okorafor’s Africanfuturist critique, pointing out that the judgment of the Global West is often based on an extremely limited perspective, a facet of the West’s egocentrism, which they must learn to overcome if they ever hope to survive through the future.