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A review by orionmerlin
Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Characters – 5/10
Calling these people “characters” is generous. They're more like abstract concepts loosely held together by backpacks. The Biologist, our narrator, is less of a person and more a spore-coated camera lens—emotionally detached, socially inert, and scientifically obsessed to the point of absurdity. She’s compelling in the way a strange petri dish might be, but that doesn’t make her dynamic. The rest of the expedition? Cardboard cutouts with security clearances. Surveyor growls and shoots things, Anthropologist exists mostly to disappear, and the Psychologist might be interesting if she weren’t too busy muttering trigger phrases like a Walmart-brand Inception villain. Their interpersonal chemistry is nonexistent, and any potential tension is smothered under the book’s refusal to give them inner lives.
Calling these people “characters” is generous. They're more like abstract concepts loosely held together by backpacks. The Biologist, our narrator, is less of a person and more a spore-coated camera lens—emotionally detached, socially inert, and scientifically obsessed to the point of absurdity. She’s compelling in the way a strange petri dish might be, but that doesn’t make her dynamic. The rest of the expedition? Cardboard cutouts with security clearances. Surveyor growls and shoots things, Anthropologist exists mostly to disappear, and the Psychologist might be interesting if she weren’t too busy muttering trigger phrases like a Walmart-brand Inception villain. Their interpersonal chemistry is nonexistent, and any potential tension is smothered under the book’s refusal to give them inner lives.
Atmosphere / Setting – 9.5/10
Here’s where Annihilation flexes hard. VanderMeer knows how to build a world that feels like it's quietly digesting you. Area X is gorgeous and terrifying—a swampy, ocean-adjacent nightmare kaleidoscope of biological impossibilities. A tunnel that breathes, a lighthouse filled with rotting expedition logs, dolphins with too-human eyes—it’s the literary equivalent of staring too long at a coral reef and realizing it’s looking back. This book doesn’t just describe a setting—it infects you with it. My only complaint, and it’s minor, is that the atmosphere is doing 95% of the narrative heavy lifting. But fine. If I’m going to be bored, at least let it be in a place this eerily beautiful.
Here’s where Annihilation flexes hard. VanderMeer knows how to build a world that feels like it's quietly digesting you. Area X is gorgeous and terrifying—a swampy, ocean-adjacent nightmare kaleidoscope of biological impossibilities. A tunnel that breathes, a lighthouse filled with rotting expedition logs, dolphins with too-human eyes—it’s the literary equivalent of staring too long at a coral reef and realizing it’s looking back. This book doesn’t just describe a setting—it infects you with it. My only complaint, and it’s minor, is that the atmosphere is doing 95% of the narrative heavy lifting. But fine. If I’m going to be bored, at least let it be in a place this eerily beautiful.
Writing Style – 7/10
The prose is a mood. Sparse, clinical, quietly unsettling—but often to a fault. It’s written like a scientific field report having a mental breakdown. There are moments of brilliance, especially when VanderMeer lets his fungal horror flag fly (the Crawler’s apocalyptic sermon remains iconic), but much of it feels emotionally remote. The tone matches the narrator—dispassionate and analytical to the point of numbness—but that doesn’t always make it engaging. It’s atmospheric, yes, but also repetitive and sometimes too vague to make an impact. I appreciated the style more than I enjoyed it. Which kind of sums up the book, honestly.
The prose is a mood. Sparse, clinical, quietly unsettling—but often to a fault. It’s written like a scientific field report having a mental breakdown. There are moments of brilliance, especially when VanderMeer lets his fungal horror flag fly (the Crawler’s apocalyptic sermon remains iconic), but much of it feels emotionally remote. The tone matches the narrator—dispassionate and analytical to the point of numbness—but that doesn’t always make it engaging. It’s atmospheric, yes, but also repetitive and sometimes too vague to make an impact. I appreciated the style more than I enjoyed it. Which kind of sums up the book, honestly.
Plot – 6/10
This is less of a plot and more of a slow, mossy unraveling. People arrive, things go wrong, glowing creatures appear, and nobody really gets out okay. It’s deliberately ambiguous, but that ambiguity often reads more like avoidance than artistry. There are big ideas here—identity dissolution, ecological horror, surveillance, transformation—but they’re filtered through such a fog of vagueness that nothing really lands. There’s a structure, technically, but it’s like watching a slow-motion implosion with no payoff. The climax? Kind of just... happens. And then the book ends like someone turning off a projector mid-slide.
This is less of a plot and more of a slow, mossy unraveling. People arrive, things go wrong, glowing creatures appear, and nobody really gets out okay. It’s deliberately ambiguous, but that ambiguity often reads more like avoidance than artistry. There are big ideas here—identity dissolution, ecological horror, surveillance, transformation—but they’re filtered through such a fog of vagueness that nothing really lands. There’s a structure, technically, but it’s like watching a slow-motion implosion with no payoff. The climax? Kind of just... happens. And then the book ends like someone turning off a projector mid-slide.
Intrigue – 5.5/10
I stayed curious, but only just. The mysteries kept piling up, but the book rarely gave me enough emotional or narrative momentum to care about solving them. I wanted to know what the Crawler was, why the tower existed, what was happening to the expedition—but only in the way one wants to scratch a mosquito bite. My interest itched, but it never deepened. The book assumes its weirdness will carry you through, but without character connection or plot stakes, the suspense fizzles into mild, persistent confusion. At some point, I stopped asking “What’s going on?” and started asking “Do I actually want to find out?”
I stayed curious, but only just. The mysteries kept piling up, but the book rarely gave me enough emotional or narrative momentum to care about solving them. I wanted to know what the Crawler was, why the tower existed, what was happening to the expedition—but only in the way one wants to scratch a mosquito bite. My interest itched, but it never deepened. The book assumes its weirdness will carry you through, but without character connection or plot stakes, the suspense fizzles into mild, persistent confusion. At some point, I stopped asking “What’s going on?” and started asking “Do I actually want to find out?”
Logic / Relationships – 4.5/10
The internal logic of Area X feels like it was reverse-engineered from a fever dream. Sure, it’s alien and unknowable—but it’s also inconsistent and unearned. Why does spore exposure give the Biologist reflexes and resistance to hypnosis? Why are the expedition members using Cold War-era equipment? Why do plants have human DNA? The answers don’t have to be scientific, but they should feel cohesive. Instead, the rules shift as needed to keep things spooky. And the relationships? Flat, sterile, and functionally nonexistent. This could’ve been a tense, paranoid survival story—but the characters barely speak, and when they do, it’s like they’re in separate novels.
The internal logic of Area X feels like it was reverse-engineered from a fever dream. Sure, it’s alien and unknowable—but it’s also inconsistent and unearned. Why does spore exposure give the Biologist reflexes and resistance to hypnosis? Why are the expedition members using Cold War-era equipment? Why do plants have human DNA? The answers don’t have to be scientific, but they should feel cohesive. Instead, the rules shift as needed to keep things spooky. And the relationships? Flat, sterile, and functionally nonexistent. This could’ve been a tense, paranoid survival story—but the characters barely speak, and when they do, it’s like they’re in separate novels.
Enjoyment – 5.5/10
This book was a beautiful slog. I appreciated the craft, admired the ambition, and absolutely loved the atmosphere—but I didn’t have fun. The cold narration, glacial pacing, and lack of character connection kept me at arm’s length the entire time. It’s haunting, yes. Memorable, yes. Enjoyable? Not really. I didn’t hate it—but I wouldn’t rush to reread it either. It’s like being told a really interesting ghost story by someone who refuses to raise their voice or make eye contact. I respect it more than I ever connected with it.
This book was a beautiful slog. I appreciated the craft, admired the ambition, and absolutely loved the atmosphere—but I didn’t have fun. The cold narration, glacial pacing, and lack of character connection kept me at arm’s length the entire time. It’s haunting, yes. Memorable, yes. Enjoyable? Not really. I didn’t hate it—but I wouldn’t rush to reread it either. It’s like being told a really interesting ghost story by someone who refuses to raise their voice or make eye contact. I respect it more than I ever connected with it.
Final Score: 6.0/10
Annihilation is a gorgeously written mind-virus of a book that prioritizes mood over meaning, mystery over momentum, and concept over character. It’s an elegant fogbank: immersive, unsettling, and ultimately impenetrable. I admire what it tried to do. I just wish it had let me feel something while doing it.
Annihilation is a gorgeously written mind-virus of a book that prioritizes mood over meaning, mystery over momentum, and concept over character. It’s an elegant fogbank: immersive, unsettling, and ultimately impenetrable. I admire what it tried to do. I just wish it had let me feel something while doing it.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror, Death, Gore, Blood, Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Animal death, Cancer, Confinement, Gun violence, Mental illness, Self harm, Suicide, Violence, Grief, Gaslighting
Minor: Emotional abuse, Sexual content, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide attempt, Schizophrenia/Psychosis , Abandonment, Alcohol
Annihilation contains surreal and disturbing imagery centered on bodily transformation, environmental contamination, and psychological manipulation. Characters are subjected to hypnosis, unknowable biological phenomena, and extreme isolation. Deaths occur on- and off-page, with several involving unnatural or grotesque mutations. The book includes unsettling descriptions of decay, trauma-induced detachment, and the slow mental breakdown of its protagonist. Much of the horror is existential and ambiguous rather than traditionally graphic, but the emotional tone is consistently tense, eerie, and disorienting.