A review by aksmith92
Little Rot by Akwaeke Emezi

challenging dark tense fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? No
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

The Setup: Akwaeke Emezi's Little Rot is a gripping novel that delves into the complexities of human relationships, societal corruption, and the pursuit of self-discovery within the fictional Nigerian metropolis of New Lagos. The narrative unfolds over a tumultuous 36-hour period. It primarily focuses on Aima and Kalu, a couple whose recent breakup sets off a chain of events plunging them into the city's dark underbelly. Aima, torn between her rekindled Christian faith and personal desires, seeks solace with her friend Ijendu, leading to unexpected and intimate encounters. Meanwhile, Kalu's attempt to distract himself at a sex party hosted by his friend Ahmed exposes him to disturbing realities, forcing him into morally challenging situations. The lives of Ola and Souraya, two Nigerian sex workers visiting from Kuala Lumpur, became intertwined with Ahmed and Kalu's, further entangling the characters in a web of deceit, power struggles, and survival.

What I Loved: "Loved" is a tricky word. I didn't love it. This book exposed much of humanity's worst, even with characters who seemed pretty reasonable. Regardless, Emezi's storytelling was fast-paced and immersive, capturing the reader's attention as the characters navigated a world rife with moral ambiguity and danger. I felt the second half was much more fast paced than the first, hence I was more engrossed in the second 50%. However, the novel's thriller-like pacing kept me engaged, propelling me through a narrative filled with twists, turns, and connections. The characters were fleshed out - and again, you're likely not going to love them by any means, but you felt them. It showcased how fantastic of a writer Emezi was (is). Their writing truly did blow me away.

Why Not 5 Stars? While Little Rot unfolds throughout a single weekend and shifts between multiple points of view, its rapid pacing and condensed timeframe surprisingly never felt like a hindrance. Though some readers may find these constraints limiting, I found it impressive how Emezi infused such nuance into the characters within such a short span. However, where the novel faltered for me was in its pacing in the first half, which lagged at times, and its overwhelming emphasis on sex. Hear me out because, generally, I don't mind this: given that the novel revolves around a sex party, the abundance of erotic encounters makes sense within the narrative. Yet, at times, the sheer volume of these scenes felt excessive, diluting the novel's more incisive societal critiques. Emezi's intent to depict a raw and brutal world is clear, and while the explicit nature of the book plays a role in that vision, its saturation occasionally overshadowed the deeper themes at play.

Overall, though, Little Rot offered a compelling exploration of the intersections between personal desires, societal expectations, and the pervasive influence of corruption. Emezi crafted a thrilling and thought-provoking narrative, inviting readers to reflect on the complexities of morality, power, and identity within a vividly depicted urban landscape. I will leave you with this quote from Emezi (in the acknowledgments), which I think captures the essence of reading this book:

This book might be difficult to witness but my hope is that it gives us some courage to witness the difficult things in our lives, to understand how close they can brush to our skin, and to move accordingly.

**

Maybe he'd thought she would go back to the edges and give him back the space to do whatever he wanted on his own time, but that's the problem with pressing yourself down too much, folding and folding when you're not really made of material that's suitable for those kinds of creases. At some point, you just spring back up when you can't take another bending, not a single pleat more. And upon that, you spring back with force, and your momentum can be quite upsetting to people who didn't expect you to claim your space.

There are some places that you swear you'll never go back to because the space itself has become inseparable from the time; the there is the same as the then and you don't know how to deal with the space if it's inside a different slot of time.

He knew he sounded defensive, but he couldn't help how easily the irritation was slipping off his tongue. It wasn't her assumption that annoyed him, it was the way she was continuing with it, looking at him as if he was a child trying to get away with a blatant lie, as if she knew him better than his own words were claiming. It felt like a violation, like she was reaching deep inside him and holding something and saying, this is you; you are only this, when his own voice had never even gone there. He wanted her to back down.

Warm tears dripped off her hands onto the bedsheets. She kept praying and whispering, letting the words turn into a semiconscious stream pouring out of her mouth while her mind spun in multiple directions, looking for a sign, a clue that could lead her back to some form of righteousness. There had to be a point to what she had just gone through, what she had put herself through. This had to be rock bottom. It tasted like it, rich with despair and shame and hopelessness, like a cloak she was dragging over herself. 
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