[this is quite the low review. i know it can be controversial to give star ratings to memoirs, so disclaimer: i am not rating/reviewing akwaeke emezi’s life and experiences. i am reviewing the way those were communicated and the book itself. i have nothing against akwaeke emezi themself]

i’ve never really had a memoir turn me off of reading an author’s other books before??
akwaeke emezi comes off (unfortunately) as highly egotistical in this memoir. it was fine for a while, but became exhausting by the time i finished.
i also found this to have flowery enough writing that it was difficult to grasp the meaning of anything in it, what was metaphorical and what wasn’t, etc. (this is pretty subjective though, as i’m not really a flowery-writing kind of guy, so take that critique with several grains of salt if you want to read this book).

(also, i don’t know if i fully agree with reviews i’ve seen of Dear Senthuran saying it “glorifies suicidality”, but i do believe that some sections of this book were too intense and leaning towards glorifying it to be included. just in general maybe this book should have stayed as private letters)