A magnificent new novel from the bestselling, award-winning author of An American Marriage—Tayari Jones has written an unforgettable novel that sparkles with wit and intelligence and deep feeling about two lifelong friends whose worlds converge after many years apart in the face of a devastating tragedy.
"Kin is the kind of all-encompassing reading experience I’m always hoping to smart and funny and deftly profound. This is Tayari Jones’s very best work.” —Ann Patchett, author of Tom Lake
Vernice and Annie, two motherless daughters raised in Honeysuckle, Louisiana, have been best friends and neighbors since earliest childhood but are fated to live starkly different lives. Raised by a fierce aunt determined to give her a stable home in the wake of her mother’s death, Vernice leaves Honeysuckle at eighteen for Spelman College, where she joins a sisterhood of powerfully connected Black women and discovers a world of affluence, manners, aspiration, and inequality. Annie, abandoned by her mother as a child and fixated on the idea of finding her and filling the bottomless hole left by her absence, sets off on a journey that will take her into a world of peril and adversity, as well as love and adventure, culminating in a battle for her life.
A novel about mothers and daughters, friendship and sisterhood, and the complexities of being a woman in the American South, Kin is an exuberant, emotionally rich, unforgettable work from one of the brightest and most irresistible voices in contemporary fiction.
Tayari Jones is the author of the novels Leaving Atlanta, The Untelling, Silver Sparrow, and An American Marriage (Algonquin Books, February 2018). Her writing has appeared in Tin House, The Believer, The New York Times, and Callaloo. A member of the Fellowship of Southern Writers, she has also been a recipient of the Hurston/Wright Legacy Award, Lifetime Achievement Award in Fine Arts from the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation, United States Artist Fellowship, NEA Fellowship and Radcliffe Institute Bunting Fellowship. Silver Sparrow was named a #1 Indie Next Pick by booksellers in 2011, and the NEA added it to its Big Read Library of classics in 2016. Jones is a graduate of Spelman College, University of Iowa, and Arizona State University. She is currently an Associate Professor in the MFA program at Rutgers-Newark University.
This book is the literary hit of 2026—full stop. It’s gut-wrenching, thought-provoking, empowering, heartbreakingly realistic, deeply embracing, and profoundly resonant. It takes the word kin and restores its true meaning: kin isn’t defined by blood, but by the people who truly see you, who hear the words you can’t say, who touch your soul, who hold space for your flaws, your mistakes, your missteps, and still call you theirs. Your real kin is your person—and this novel captures that truth with unforgettable clarity.
Vernice (Niecy) and Annie’s story begins in Honeysuckle, Louisiana, where both girls are raised not by their mothers, but by the imperfect, complicated, loving “kin” who stepped in when their mothers stepped out.
Niecy’s mother was murdered by her own father, who then took his own life—an unthinkable tragedy that left Niecy in the care of her eccentric, once-wayward aunt. This aunt, who fled Honeysuckle years before, returns with every intention of not just raising Niecy, but mothering her, filling the fractured spaces left behind.
Annie, on the other hand, was abandoned at birth by her mother and never knew her father. Her grandmother raised her with a stern kind of love, but Annie always carried the raw, aching absence of the woman who left her. That absence becomes her compass—her obsession—shaping every choice she makes.
From their earliest years, the girls form a bond so private it almost feels sacred. Annie is bold, restless, animated—a girl determined to fill the void her mother left by searching for her someday. Niecy is the opposite: obedient, careful, loyal, observant, the one who follows rules while Annie breaks them. Their bond is exquisite in its contradictions.
But when Annie decides to escape Honeysuckle at eighteen—right before prom—Niecy’s heart shatters. Abandonment comes back for her a second time, this time wearing the face of the person she loved most. Their lives split apart, and for years, their only bridge is the letters they exchange.
Niecy goes to Spelman College, where the world opens to her in ways both beautiful and brutal. She discovers the power and elegance of Black womanhood, the complexities of class and wealth, the breathtaking force of civil rights activism—and the sting of inequality that catches her off guard like a slap. She befriends Mrs. McHenry, a refined woman of influence who climbed her way up from poverty, becoming an unexpected mentor and mother figure.
Annie’s path is wilder, more precarious. She runs away with a group of friends, and when their car breaks down in the least likely place, she ends up living in a world she never expected—one filled with danger, oddity, and surprising tenderness. There, she forms a deep bond with Lulabella, reading her Bible passages, combing her hair, offering comfort in small, intimate ways that shape them both.
Both young women find unusual, eccentric mother figures who guide them, teach them hard-earned lessons, and nudge them toward identities they never imagined for themselves. And both make choices—some brave, some reckless—that carry weighty, life-altering consequences. When tragedy finally strikes, it pulls them back toward each other, stitching their lives together once more in the most devastating and beautiful way. This book is a punch to the gut—in the best possible way. It’s emotional, haunting, and powerful. It is an extraordinary character study not just of Annie and Niecy, but of the women who raise them, the community that shapes them, and the people who walk beside them.
Along with the unforgettable leads, the supporting cast shines. Miss Jamison, Mrs. Ola Mae, and even Babydoll become characters you genuinely grow to love. And the men—Bobo, Franklin, and Mr. Daniel, the bar owner—bring depth, dimension, and emotional richness that elevate the story even further.
At its core, this book is a luminous exploration of sisterhood, found family, sacrifice, self-discovery, dignity, the brutal reality of inequality and racism, the fire of social justice awakening—and above all, a story about love: pure, unguarded, raw, and real.
I loved this book even more than An American Marriage, and I’m absolutely convinced it will become one of the biggest breakout novels of 2026. Its storytelling is unique, intimate, and fiercely moving in every chapter.
A huge thank you to NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for sharing one of the most anticipated books of 2026 with me in exchange for my honest thoughts.
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Separate life journeys of two young black girls growing up together in Honeysuckle, Louisiana as best friends unfold in this moving and so well written novel. Both are orphans , one by death of her parents, the other by abandonment. One raised by an aunt reluctant to be a parent . The other by her grandmother. Both wanting to leave, but with different hopes and dreams.
Alternating chapters take us on the roads they travel with their intimate points of view . One off to college to Atlanta. The other to Memphis to find the mother who left her as an infant . A beautiful story of two unforgettable characters facing the impact of the racism of Jim Crow in the 1950’s. Their journeys are separate , but connections are impossible to break when the bonds are deep. A different story from An American Marriage, but equally as thought provoking and moving. I loved the inclusion of letters in both novels. Tayari Jones is a wonderful storyteller reminding us what family means.
I received a copy of this from Knopf through NetGalley.
4.5 Vernice and Annie, two black babies born in Honeysuckle, Louisiana who shared a cradle after birth. Both baby girls were left motherless as infants..Vernice’s mother shot dead by her husband before he killed himself, her Aunt (her mother’s sister) raising her up …and Annie’s mother just taking off and leaving Annie with her grandmother to raise. Both girls bonded by the cradle and the loss of their mothers. The time frame for their coming up years was the 1950’s and 60’s, the time of segregation in the South. So the story follows this close relationship until the time in their teens when Annie up and leaves taking up with a boyfriend to get out of town, following her leaving.. Vernice is off to Spelman College as her Aunt saved and saved and the church plate was often passed around to help with expenses. Both their lives change immensely.. Vernice gets through college Annie’s life is complicated by the search for her mother and it takes her to Tennessee and then Georgia. The girl’s relationship.. mostly by letters stays close throughout their different situations and romances and difficulties This is a story of friendships and sisterhood and the power of love. Loved it… but the ending is not concrete…we are not given the final outcome straight out..but still a very enjoyable read.
Thank you to NetGalley and Knopf for the free ebook in exchange for my honest review!
“Before I opened the door, I said, “I love you,” tossing the word over my shoulder like a handful of wildflower seeds.”
Once in a blue moon, a novel arrives that doesn’t just tell a story but claims a piece of your heart. Kin is that rare kind of book. Tayari Jones, already known for her rich explorations of family and belonging, delivers a sweeping, emotionally charged masterpiece. Set across several decades of the Jim Crow South and beyond, Kin begins with two baby girls Vernice, known as Niecy, and Annie born into nearly parallel lives yet fated for different paths. Both are motherless from infancy. Niecy’s mother is murdered by her abusive father, leaving behind a grief that never entirely fades. Annie’s mother abandons her early on, a loss that drives her lifelong search for connection and meaning. Jones traces their journeys with breathtaking intimacy. Niecy’s path leads to Spelman College in Atlanta, a place of both discovery and danger. Annie’s takes her through the working class bars and backroads of the South, where she learns to survive on grit and grace. Across the years and miles, the two women exchange letters intricate, tender, and fierce that serve as the heartbeat of the novel. Through them, we witness the evolution of friendship, womanhood, and the enduring power of hope. “You could only fight scripture with scripture,” Jones writes, a line that captures both the moral weight and the poetic rhythm of the book. Kin is more than a story of two women; it’s a meditation on the meaning of family, the scars of history, and the resilience required to live and love in a world determined to deny one’s humanity. Jones’s prose is lush yet deliberate, her storytelling both intimate and epic in scope. “It’s a future butterfly,” one character reflects. “If we were together, I’d have treated creatures gently too. But we were not together, and I didn’t care that one day this worm would fly.”
There is a scene that takes place in a bus station, where we watch a little girl who anxiously needs to use the restroom. Tayari Jones manages to make us on edge, like a thriller, to see if she will use it responsibly. I saw a racist attack against her if she were to go on the bus station floor, and I was anxious to see what would happen next. This tone is meticulously done. “Finally, the colored folks trickled in, drained from the trip but glad to be where it was that they were going. The lady’s husband was dressed smart in jeans, starch-stiff. He dipped his wife and kissed her like that one soldier did in Life Magazine. Then he picked up his daughter who looped her arms around him like a life preserver. Despite everything that led up to it, it was nice to watch.”
That image fragile, defiant, and beautiful captures the essence of Kin. It is a novel about transformation, about becoming, and about the quiet acts of survival that make us who we are.
Do not miss this extraordinary book when it’s released on 2.24.26
This is a beautiful and amazing novel from an author I am a huge fan of. I was captivated by the relationship between Vernice and Annie and their plight is relatable in so many ways. An amazing look at what it is to be a black woman in the world while navigating grief, trauma, friendships, family, hardship, The characters are so complex yet so well explained to the reader. The writing is beautiful as always and this is certainly a book with a plot that will stick with me for a long time. Realistic and raw - this book is meant to be devoured. I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
A special thank you to NetGalley and Knopf for the ARC.
Kin is an emotional, character-driven novel that has stayed with me after I finished. The story explores sisterhood, found family, self-discovery, racism, and segregation, set against the backdrop of the Jim Crow South.
The novel follows Vernice and Annie, who have known each other since they were babies and grow up without mothers. Though raised side by side, their lives take very different paths as they leave home in search of independence, belonging, and identity. The book alternates between their perspectives, giving readers a picture of how their experiences, choices, and circumstances shape their lives.
Tayari Jones does an excellent job with storytelling, creating rich, emotionally grounded characters. While I found the novel moving, I did wish there had been a bit more at the ending. Even so, this was a powerful and thoughtful read that I would happily recommend.
“We come to love people in many ways. Much is made of the burning love that hits like the smoldering remnants of a star hurled down to earth. Yet this is not the only type of love anymore than the camellia is the only type of flower.”
I was lucky enough to receive an advance reader copy of Tayari Jones’ newest novel, Kin, from Knopf publishing. My hopes were high, as Jones has written some of my favorite books of the last decade, and Kin lived up to every expectation.
The novel follows the lives of “cradle friends” Vernice (Niecy) and Annie, as they grow up in (and eventually go from and to) Honeysuckle, Alabama in the 1950’s/60’s segregated south. Both motherless for different reasons, the girls rely on each other in various capacities as they search to find their place in the world. Vernice finds herself living in the upper crust of her community after attending college while Annie desperately tries to find the mother that abandoned her as a child, and finds herself living a life she didn’t expect, or deserve.
Jones is at her literary best in this book, bringing the themes of marriage, female friendships, sisterhood, and living as a person of color in America that she has explored in her previous works and combining them all in a sprawling yet intimate story. Her ability to write characters that feel real is unmatched, this book jumped off the page (and is begging to be made into a movie). I could’ve read 500 more pages and been enthralled from beginning to end.
Along with her ability to write lyrical, devastating stories and characters, Jones brings to the surface questions about what it means to be family, what it means to be loved by those who birthed you, and whether that love defines who you are. At 340+ pages, there isn’t a single word wasted, Jones takes advantage of every page.
If you’ve been moved by any of Jones’ previous works, you will likely be moved by this one. If you haven’t read her writing before, this is a great way to immerse yourself (and then check out Silver Sparrow or An American Marriage) I have a feeling this time next year we will be seeing Kin on many of the Top Books of the Year lists.
Thanks again Knopf for giving me the chance to enjoy this novel early. I laughed, I cried, and it made me want to hug my own, real life “cradle friend” who I wouldn’t know how to do life without.
This is a literary novel following Annie and Niecy, two motherless daughters raised in Honeysuckle Louisiana, whose lives go in opposite directions.
Niecy, who is raised by her aunt after her mother is murdered by her husband, leaves Honeysuckle to attend Spellman college. Once there, she finds sisterhood in her fellow classmates and even sparks a romance.
Annie, whose mother abandoned her when she was just a baby, also leaves Honeysuckle - on the hunt to find her missing mother and to get answers that she has been searching for for years.
Both girls are haunted by the loss of their mothers, and are yearning for a mother's love. This affects a lot of the relationships they form and makes them question a lot about themselves.
It was interesting and heartbreaking to see the parallels between these girls' lives as they went their separate ways.
Through it all, they never lost contact with one another, and supported each other through every hurdle of grief and struggle they came across.
This is a novel of friendship, sisterhood, loss, and grief.
I really enjoyed it, although I did feel the ending was a tad weak.
[Thanks to Netgalley and Knopf for sending me an eARC in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.]
4-1/2 stars. Kin is the story of two Black women, as close as sisters from early childhood, coming of age in the South in the late 1950s to early 1960s. Niecey and Annie called themselves “cradle friends” and shared everything as girls, with never a secret between them. But as young women, their lives followed different paths, even as they remained in frequent contact.
I enjoyed this novel right to the end, but was disappointed by the abrupt ending. Up to that point, I'd very much enjoyed following the well-developed characters through their ups and downs during a challenging time in our country's history. The differences in the two women's lives made for interesting, if bittersweet, reading. Reading on my Kindle, I was actually quite surprised to realize I had reached the end; the final chapter felt a bit tacked-on, as if starting a new section, when just as quickly as it started, it was over. I still recommend the book, and will check out other reviews to see if my reaction to the ending was shared.
Thank you to Alfred A. Knopf, publisher and #NetGalley for providing a complimentary eARC in exchange for an objective review.
"Love requires bravery, but it fortifies you at the same time. I don't know anything else in the world that gives back the exact same treasure it demands."
WOW! A stunning knock out of a novel! This book's power crept up on me until I was a full-on mess by the end. Tayari Jones has crafted a masterpiece of friendship, family and the diverging path that can alter the course of our lives. There was a soothing symmetry to the book, with the alternating view points of our main characters, Annie and Niecy, motherless friends, or cradle mates, who grew up together in a small Louisiana town. There's so much care in the way Jones tells both of their stories, that I zoomed through most of the book in a single sitting. I can't recommend this one enough and even though it's only the second day of 2026, I already know this book will be one of the best I read this year.
Thanks to NetGalley and Knopf for the advance reading copy in exchange for my honest review.
Tayari Jones's KIN is a compelling narrative centered on the parallel lives of two motherless friends, Annie and Niecy, as they strive to define their futures. Niecy, raised by her aunt after her parents' deaths, pursues an academic path and finds a fiancé. In contrast, Annie's mother's absence spurs her to leave for Tennessee in search of her. The novel explores each woman's personal navigation of love, grief, loss, and friendship, leading to painful and unexpected truths that one friend must ultimately face alone.
Jones demonstrates her mastery of storytelling through atmospheric settings, a cast of diverse yet flawed characters, and a plot that is often gut-wrenching. This book earns a solid 4 out of 5 stars, guaranteeing readers will be invested in both women's journeys until the very last page.
A beautiful story of family and friendship during the Jim Crow South filled with Black traditions, superstitions, and history. I’m not the biggest fan of historical fiction, but like Tayari’s last novel I spent days highlighting passages that touched my heart. The writing feels like a warm hug from an old sage passing down bits of wisdom.
The story of two childhood friends going down completely different paths. Hearing about Annie’s search for her mother and Vernices’s life at Spelman college was a journey of passion, motherhood , queer exploration, sacrifice, and loss.
Kin opens with a strong sense of Southern atmosphere, generational weight, and a girlhood bond that feels both fragile and unbreakable. Vernice and Annie grow up side by side in Honeysuckle, Louisiana, yet their lives move in completely different directions. Vernice’s path at Spelman was one of the most engaging parts for me. Watching her enter a world shaped by legacy, privilege, and sisterhood while still holding on to where she came from gave her chapters a quiet steadiness that felt genuine.
Annie’s journey brought out a different emotional reaction. Her life is shaped by the absence of her mother, and that kind of wound affects every choice she makes. Her path is full of danger, heartbreak, and moments of unexpected tenderness. There were times when I wanted to shake her and hug her in the same breath because she feels so honest in her flaws and determination.
What stood out most is how deeply the book explores the complexity of womanhood in the South. It shows how friendship can ground you, how loss settles into a person over time, and how two people can love each other fiercely even as their lives separate. The story carries both heartache and hope, and the writing brings a warmth that made the characters feel real and memorable.
If you enjoy stories that focus on sisterhood and the emotional ties that shape us, this one is worth adding to your list.
Thanks Netgalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor | Knopf for the ARC and opportunity to provide an honest review.
The prose in Kin was beautiful. Tayari Jones has a way with language that's gripping and emotional, while remaining honest to the story. I felt that way about Kin, and in both An American Marriage and Silver Sparrow. Annie's and Vernice's stories of growing up being motherless daughters by differing circumstances remained paralleled in their pain. Neither POV was more interesting than the other, which I appreciated, and the way that you got to see both the main and side characters' reflection of who they were because of their mother--whether they were mothered or motherless--was done very well.
My goodness, Tayari Jones, does it again. Kin reads like sitting in your living room with two women who have lived the hard, beautiful edges of life—telling you everything, little by little, in their own voices. That intimacy is the novel’s heartbeat. The story follows Vernice and Annie Kay, childhood friends from a small Louisiana town who bond over being motherless and growing up with relatives. Vernice’s mother was tragically killed, and Annie Kay’s mother becomes almost a mystical presence that Annie spends her life trying to find in unexpected ways. The girls leave home and head to Spelman/Atlanta and Memphis, shape their young adulthood, and we follow them as they become women whose lives diverge and, later, converge around grief, memory, and what it means to be kin. If you care about place—about Atlanta, the South, the real textures of Black life—this novel is intoxicating. The writing is rich with promise, and the sense that the author has lived, studied, or deeply knows the places she invokes makes everything feel real. Reading on a business trip in Memphis, staying at the Peabody Hotel, as an Atlanta resident who’d spent time in Louisiana, the scenes leapt off the page. Historic Black Atlanta, the echoes of Cascade, Auburn Ave, Spelman’s campus, downtown Atlanta, Venetian Hills, felt less like fiction and more like memories or an invitation to actually go see. That specificity is rare and thrilling. You can almost feel the layers of research and lived experience in every description. The friendships, the schools, the neighborhoods: Jones uses them not just as backdrop but as characters themselves, shaping choices, loyalties, and futures. As the story unfolds, the emotional stakes rise, and the bond between Vernice and Annie Kay keeps the narrative taut even when their paths run far apart. If I have one critique from reading an ARC, it’s that one central plot point felt unresolved, perhaps a function of advance material, perhaps by design. I will follow up on the book publication to be sure. It didn’t diminish my overall love for the book, but it did leave me wanting just a little more closure in one thread. Aside from that, everything else is so compelling, so alive, that it barely mattered. For me, Kin is probably the best book I’ve read this year.
If you want historical fiction that feels true, urgent, and inspired by the kinds of real stories that could have happened, or did, this is it. It’s a novel that invites you into a world, makes you care fiercely about its people, and leaves you thinking about what binds us to one another long after the last page.
Thank you to the Publisher and NetGalley for a Digital ARC of this title.
*Thank you to Knopf and NetGalley for giving me this eARC in exchange for my honest review*
I've been waiting for Tayari Jones to publish a new novel ever since I read "An American Marriage" several years ago. "Kin" did not disappoint. I give it 4.25 stars on my personal scale. The story telling is fantastic, the prose is lyrical (maybe overdone on just a couple of occasions), and the characters are really well developed.
The story if of Niecy and Annie, two girls born in Louisiana and raised by their Auntie and Grandmother respectively. They are not related by blood, but by circumstance and spirit. Each was motherless for different reasons and it is their journey to come to terms with that, and to find identity beyond it that drives this story. One goes off to college at Spelman in Atlanta and the other goes to Memphis to try to find the mother she never knew. Each travels a distinctive journey and they stay connected over time via letters with the backdrop of the 1950s in the south.
This story is about mothers and daughters, but it is so much more than that. It is multilayered around blood relations and found family, formal education and life lessons, country and city experiences, light skin and dark skin, money and poverty (and the choices they afford or limit).
If you love well developed, nuanced characters who evolve and vulnerable with their thoughts and feelings, this one is for you. While some of the characters said or did things I didn't like, in hind sight I realized that there weren't any characters that I didn't like to some degree. They are all very human, with all of the faults and quirks that go with that. It really is a tapestry of family and friendships and even acquaintances that are authentic and believable.
Tayari Jones is now an auto-read author for me. I very much look forward to years of her novels.
My God, Today! I have waited to write this review due to the book coma Kin induced. I have enjoyed all of Tayari Jones’s books, however, this one is so masterfully written that I’ve been thinking of Niecy and Annie Kay for days.
You don’t have to be from the South to understand the colloquialisms, the beautiful turn of phrase, or the care with which Jones places every word, but if you are, it’s like buttered pecan pralines and sweet tea to the soul. Each character’s story sheds light on the struggles of many motherless daughters who came of age during the Jim Crow era. Irrespective of how they lost their mothers, Niecy and Annie Kay longed for maternal love and acceptance their whole lives, both taking divergent roads to their mother Promised Land. Not only is Kin informative and heart-wrenching, it also brings alive Atlanta’s progressive culture, sights, and sounds of the Civil Rights Movement.
Thank you Netgalley and Alfred Knopf for allowing me to read the Kin arc. It is simply beautiful!
A book with timeless themes that still manages to say new things.
Two motherless “cradle friends” leave behind their small southern town to go in different directions. But the ties of friendship, and growing up together with the hunger for mothers they never knew, links them forever.
This book is filled with yearning, but also with a friendship that knows no bounds.
I liked Tayari Jones’ An American Marriage, but this one touched me in a much deeper way.
Thanks to NetGalley for an ARC copy in exchange for my honest review.
This was a powerful, emotional, and sometimes gut-wrenching story about two girls who grow up without a mother. Their lives take very different paths, shaped by the meaningful relationships around them, yet they are drawn back together as the sisters they always felt they were. The writing is beautiful and the story is deeply immersive. I couldn’t put it down. I received a complimentary copy of this book and all opinions expressed strictly my own.
I got an ARC from a goodreads giveaway and i am so happy i did. That was one of the greatest stories i have ever had the pleasure of reading. This is definitely going to be a big hit in 2026
4.5 stars! A well told, heartbreaking and hopeful historical tale of two motherless, young black women growing up in the segregated south. The voices in this story need to be heard and honored. As a society, as people, we have wronged so many people. Let us acknowledge our collective atrocities and allow these truths to be told. While the story is tragic it is also so much more. It is a tale of resilience, of hope, desperation, love, longing, and a striving for something more.
Kin, by Tayari Jones, is an intimate, moving, exquisitely crafted story about two motherless “cradle friends” searching for belonging, identity, and love in a world that—due to cultural, familial, and individual legacy burdens shaped by systemic racism—has challenged their sense of being lovable.
The story is told from the alternating perspectives of Vernice (Niecy) and Annie as they navigate life as Black females in the segregated American South of the 1950s-60s. Both of them feel profoundly impacted and bonded by their experience of not having a mother, and this wanting deeply shapes both of their lives.
Jones beautifully braids Niecy’s and Annie’s stories together, somehow managing to bring to life each of them as incredibly complex and living characters while also showing us that the sum is greater than the parts—their relationship with each other is the third strand of the braid and has a life all its own.
Throughout, we see the two friends trying to figure out, both together and apart, what to do with the profound sense of absence and wanting that they believe is inherent to who they are due to their lack of a mother.
Being motherless is both similar for Niecy and Annie, AND incredibly different—almost like looking at a reflection in a mirror.
Their motherlessness is similar in that both lose their mothers when they are infants and have to be raised by other kin; both are left feeling less than loved and precious by their lack of biological mothers; both feel as though their motherlessness makes them “not normal”; both feel their lack of a mother is a core part of their identity.
But their motherlessness is also different, primarily because Niecy’s mother was killed when Niecy was a baby, whereas Annie’s mother chose to leave. As such, people remember Niecy’s mother tenderly, whereas Annie’s mother is known as “trifling”. Niecy knows she can never see her mother again on this earth, whereas Annie holds on to hope that maybe she can find her mother again someday and that doing so will change everything.
Knowing that she can never have her mother again, Niecy responds to her deep heart longing for her mother by doing all she can to be proper and likable, and therefore hopefully lovable. She works hard to cause minimal trouble for her aunt that raises her, and as she grows, goes to college, and enters a family of standing through marriage, she finds that she is good at doing what needs to be done in order to find the security that she has never felt and that her mother before her couldn’t find. But earning security comes at a cost—she keeps her feelings inside like a waterfall hidden within a cave, as externally she works so hard to keep herself tightly controlled. And she still doesn’t have her biological mother.
Annie, by contrast, knows her mother chose to leave her, but can’t let go of hope that this also means she might choose to take her back if only Annie can manage to find her and to make herself lovable enough—she isn’t sure what exactly this might entail, but she feels she would need to have a job, a man, seem something other than trifling herself. Instead of keeping herself tightly under wraps, Annie throws herself into working hard, wears her heart on her sleeve, and finds both friendship and love. And yet she can’t let go of her fixation on finding her mother, no matter the cost.
Throughout the story, I was left reflecting on mothers—what they are, how they shape us, and what happens when we can’t be mothered in the ways for which we so long. While the story primarily focuses on Niecy and Annie, we see other mothers woven throughout the book, none of whom are perfect, each of whom is trying to survive and help her family survive in the ways that she can, and each of whom inevitably also causes hurt to varying degrees along the way. Because how could it be otherwise? All mothers are but human, although arguably some are better than others.
By the end of the story, both Niecy and Annie find many things are true at once. They are not their mothers, and they have hope that they will not repeat the exact generational patterns their own mothers did. Niecy and Annie have always been loved, they have always been worthy, they have always had each other—AND, they will never have their mothers, and this loss will forever hurt and shape them.
But can Niecy and Annie still find love—the type that makes them feel precious, fully known, fully accepted? And if this is even possible, what can they hold on to, and what will they need to let go?
This story is beautiful, heartbreaking, inspiring—my review can’t even begin to truly do it justice. Please read Tayari Jones’ words for yourself—Niecy’s and Annie’s stories need to be heard.
I’m deeply grateful to Tayari Jones for her breathtaking work, and to NetGalley and to Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for this digital ARC.