A remarkable debut that explores the imperfect ways we care for one another, and how we seek repair when care fails.
“What’s our obligation to each other?” asks Jennifer Eli Bowen in this propulsive exploration of community, solitude, and love. Drawing on her experiences as a mother, daughter, and founder of the Minnesota Prison Writing Workshop, the country’s largest and most enduring prison-based literary organization, she examines the wild spectrum of shapes that care can take. She investigates the role of community across the world and in her own neighborhood, driven by a curiosity to uncover what might be gleaned from various vanishments in her own the shadow of her father, disappeared backyard chickens, a Moleskine notebook that passes in and out of her Little Free Library.
Tracing both connection and its lack, Bowen uncovers what happens when it’s missing, how we find it, and how it heals individuals, communities, and systems—from the incarcerated caretakers of newborn foals in Norway to the time-bending drama of watching children grow into adults. And through this winding quest to understand love, she moves readers out of their complacency not only about the state of American incarceration, but about what we owe ourselves and society.
Unflinching, vulnerable, and surprisingly funny, The Book of Kin encourages us not to abandon each other, reminding us that “harm is shared, and healing is too.”
I read this so quickly. It was such a joy. When describing it to others, I don’t think I have at all captured it. This author has a way of weaving together seemingly unrelated information to capture life’s complicated feelings that have no singular word. It was wonderful!!
A deep and impactful collection of essays. Not only was this a powerful telling of Bowen’s life stories and experiences, I walk away with a deep push to better understand history. The history of the broken systems all around us, and those of my family. It forces me to evaluate how I’m showing up for my people and strangers alike.