You can interpret it as that if you'd want to, although the evidence in support of that seems weak to me: Janeway is dominated to the same extent and in the same way as other characters, like Picard, and she wasn't singled out because of her gender identity.
Picard didn't die; ergo, no snuffing.
Let's say that he had, dying as the Borg cube in Earth orbit died. Would it have been snuff then?
The gleeful tone of her death scene was one of the first things I remarked upon after finishing the book;
What "death scene" are we talking about here?
The scene in virtuality when Janeway managed to push through and let Endgame in didn't strike me as gleeful.
If we're talking about the scene when Janeway is assimilated, the walls changing and all, I don't get "gleeful." Disorienting and despairing, sure, but gleeful?
not everybody has found that tone there, but I'm hardly the only one who came away with that impression either (on both sides of the argument), so there's something in the text, however unintentional, which conveys a pleasure in the fact of her death/or depiction of the act.
Sure, a depiction of the Q's gory sadism.
Basically, you've got a controversial character, widely disliked (and for whom the author is on record as having no particular affection for), who is killed in a horrific fashion; which, it has been argued, was a deserved fate, supposedly a consequence of her own actions past and in the book itself (or, from another angle, blaming the victim).
I don't understand how recognizing that a character came to a nasty fate because of established personality flaws--in this case, a certain amount of overconfidence and recklessnes--can be legitimately be called "blaming the victim," save in the most general sense.
You've even got the sadist-voyeur figure in Lady Q, who laughs and mocks as Janeway undergoes this death; the text not only fails to condemn such sadism, but to an extent approves of Lady Q's position by painting her as the (self-satisfied, to be sure) voice of reason. The idea of the person who stood by while another suffered then makes everything right by extending mild compassion to the victim is, need I even say, a stereotype of abuse.
It can be read as that, sure.
The depiction fits, much more directly, in the long tradition of gods looking down their noses at the foolish mortals who are now suffering because of the advice that said gods so kindly offered.
A lot of the noise that's being made around Janeway's death seems to be at least as much what people bring to
Before Dishonor as what's inside the book, outside misogyny bleeding over to determine What's Actually Going On in the book. If people want to read it as a snuff fantasy, whether because they hate Janeway and all women or because they're outraged that editors might write a story centered on Janeway's death, then that's what they'll read, I guess.