Anna delle Antille

by Jamaica Kincaid, C. Calabi (Translator)

Jamaica Kincaid delinea splendidamente disgusto e paura, perché sa che spesso si trovano a un passo di distanza dall'amore e dall'ossessione. All'inizio di Anna delle Antille, la sua eroina di dieci anni è circondata dalla felicità e dalla sicurezza di famiglia. Sebbene Anna ami suo padre, i suoi occhi sono tutti per sua madre. Quando ha quasi dodici anni, tuttavia, l'idillio finisce e cade in disgrazia. La perdita inspiegabile guasta entrambe le esistenze, mentre ciascuna diventa esperta alla falsità in pubblico e al tradimento silenzioso. Lo schema è stabilito, ed esteso: "E ora ho cominciato una nuova serie di tradimenti di persone e cose per cui solo dieci minuti prima avrei giurato di morire." Davanti al padre di Anna e al mondo, "Eravamo gentilezza e cortesia e amore e risate." Da sole, sono legate nella ripugnanza. Amma cerca di immaginare se stessa come il personaggio di un libro - un'orfana o una ragazza con una matrigna cattiva. Il problema è, come lei scopre, che le vite di quei personaggi hanno sempre un lieto fine. Fortunatamente per noi, anche se forse non per il suo alterego, Jamaica Kincaid è una scrittrice troppo vera per orchestrare un simile finale.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, Coming Of Age, Young Adult, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction, School

164 pages, Hardcover

First published June 1, 1985

About the author

Jamaica Kincaid is an Antiguan-American novelist, essayist, gardener, and gardening writer. She was born in St. John's, Antigua (part of the twin-island nation of Antigua and Barbuda). She lives in North Bennington, Vermont (in the United States), during the summers, and is Professor of African and African American Studies in Residence at Harvard University during the academic year.

Reviews

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

I had the privilege to briefly exchange a few words with Jamaica Kincaid after a session she attended at a book fair last weekend.

Lining up with other readers to get my copies of her books signed, I was torn between greed and love for my daughter, deliberating inside my head whether this new copy of Annie John, bought for my 13-year-old (I have my own, read copy at home), should really be hers, or whether I should keep the signed copy and give her the old one, thus outing myself as a true book fetishist at last.

In the end, I decided to let go of my greed and to plant the seed of book fetishism in my child instead, and there we go: she now proudly displays her first Jamaica Kincaid novel on her bookshelf, and it has her very own name written inside the cover, with best wishes from the author.

Why do I tell this random story instead of writing a proper review of this fantastic coming-of-age story for women across the globe? Well, I think the book is about just that: the dynamics between mothers and daughters and what we carry with us through life as a reminder of what being a woman symbolised in our earliest memories.

We instinctively learn to navigate a world made for and by men, by looking at what our mothers did or didn't do. Our approach to humanity will be formed by that relationship, and at some point, we will rebel against the notions our mothers had of "a woman's role", and we will move out into the world and have our own go at the big game.

Literature more often than not gives us the guidelines to become the persons we want to be, and I wanted my daughter to have Annie John as a fellow when she sets out to explore the depths and the shallows of the world that she will inhabit as a grown-up later. I wanted her to be as brave as that young lady. I wanted for her to be strong enough to challenge my notions and to move beyond them.

Who is a better companion for empowered womanhood than Jamaica Kincaid?

My son joined me at the Book Fair, and no mother was ever happier than me when I realised that strong women like Jamaica Kincaid empower young men too nowadays. She is not a threat to men, just to fragile, infantile patriarchy!

[منال الحسيني · Rating 1 out of 5]

لم استطع أن أكملها
هناك فارق كبير بين أن تروي أو تحكي حكاية، وأن تثرثر، وحتى منتصف العمل تقريباً لا توجد أي أحداث أو فكرة واضحة، مجرد فتاة عادية تحكي حياتها العادية وتصف عائلتها العادية ومدرستها العادية وأصدقائها العاديين، وبشكل ملئ بالتفاصيل وملل للغاية

[Mayar Hassan · Rating 2 out of 5]

رواية ترصد رحلة فتاة من حرية الطفولة إلى قيود المراهقة، وعلاقتها باسرتها التي تتجاذبها عوامل الحب والتمرد على سلطتها
الرواية مليئة بالتفاصيل بشكل ممل أحياناً، ربما تعمدت الكاتبة ذلك من أجل تقديم صورة تفصيلية للبطلة، وحتى يعايش القارئ كل تفاصيل حياتها وكأنه يراها رأي العين، لكن كثرة التفاصيل لم تخدم العمل، كما أن النهاية عبثية إلى حد كبير، فطوال أحداث الرواية أبحث عن مبرر يغفر للفتاة تبدل مشاعرها تجاه أمها المثالية لتنتهي الرواية دون أن أجد ذلك المبرر

[Alwynne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Set in colonial Antigua in the 1950s Annie John consists of episodes from the life of a young girl from early childhood to adolescence. Although it’s billed as a novel its fragmented structure reflects its origins as pieces for the New Yorker, Kincaid presents her semi-autobiographical stories in deceptively simple, direct language, everything’s distilled, often elliptical and impressionistic. She subtly recreates a society riven with unspoken conflict and irreconcilable beliefs; and her character’s experiences slowly combine to form a damning critique of colonialism. Annie John lives on a Caribbean Island but her education seems more suited to an English suburb: she attends Brownies; her teachers, mostly white and English, appear set on reproducing versions of English ladies. All around are traces of Antigua’s past, its sugar plantations, the slavery that sustained them, but at school this history’s rendered invisible, instead Annie John’s taught about Roman Britain and Columbus. At first Annie John’s perceptions of the world are overshadowed by her close bond with her mother but it’s a curious, uncertain relationship laden with menacing associations with death and superstition. Her mother too seems fractured, torn between cultures - backing up their doctor’s prescriptions with formulas provided by an Obeah woman, a local practitioner of ritual magics. As Annie John starts to outgrow her surroundings and question what she’s taught, her ties to her mother become increasingly stifling: she experiments with other ways of being and engages in a series of increasingly rebellious and subversive acts. Overall, this is an impressive depiction of coming of age in a deeply strained, problematic environment. I particularly admired Kincaid’s complex imagery and symbolism yet somehow I didn’t feel the whole was equal to the sum of its parts, I’m not entirely sure why that was. I found individual passages and some chapters fascinating but just didn’t have a strong motivation to work my way through this, perhaps because the narrative’s so disjointed or maybe because I couldn’t quite relate to the central character’s voice?

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a classic - something everyone should read. The main story is about the relationship between the daughter, Annie John and her mother. It's a love/hate dynamic as experienced by many young women and their mothers who become separated through a process of social change as reflected through different values and expectations from one generation to the next. The gap is much greater for women because there have been strong forces and pressures to change the social roles for women.

Annie is bright, far more competent academically than any of her peers in her small island home of Antigua. It's a time of colonial dependence on the UK, 1950s I think. The story follows Annie's growing years, amusing the reader with her insatiable curiosity and rebellious spirit; marking her out as unusually intelligent and capable. Of course she is constantly clashing with her traditional mother, who runs the house and dotes on her older husband. Here is an asute depiction of the animosity between mother and daughter:

My mother and I avoided each other, and it wasn't until over our supper of green figs, cooked with fish in coconut milk, that we looked at each other again. We did our best to keep up appearances for my father's sake, but our two black things got the better of us, and even though we didn't say anything noticeable it was clear that something was amiss.

Annie's father is a background figure; but the provider, the earner. He is quietly supportive of Annie and demonstrates his love and affection for her by building her room; her bed and desk, anything he can provide according to his skills as a carpenter and furniture maker.

I loved the descriptions of Antigua, the food - a special breakfast is salt fish, antroba, souse and hard boiled eggs, eaten with fresh bread from their baker.

Annie doesn't appreciate the richness of her childhood, or the unique and enchanting beauty that the island offers - to her it is just her normal background - only at the end, as she is leaving to go to England to train as a nurse, does she start to feel the strong ties of her home.

At seventeen like every adolescent, she is burning to leave everything that represents her childhood behind - for ever!

I loved this book. It made me cry, because everything Annie experiences is so universally true for any young woman growing up in an environment that cannot provide for her intellectual and emotional development, but this is such a normal process. Her individuality is balanced, however, by the contrast with Gwen her childhood friend, whose entire ambition is to be married to a boy she has known since she was a child. Annie - tells her "Good Luck", but describes to the reader her true feelings:

My reply to her was "Good Luck," and she thought I meant her well, so she grabbed me and said, "Thank you I knew you would be happy about it." But to me it was as if she had shown me a high point from which she was going to jump and hoped to land in one piece on her feet. We parted, and when I turned away I didn't look back.

What other writer has expressed so well, the romantic and foolish dreams that young women are invited, compelled to believe about marriage and the romance of the male partner?

First published in 1983. I know I read it a long time ago. I'm sure Annie's defiance and focus on self, helped to plant those seeds in me: to define myself outside of that ball and chain image presented to so many girls. In my secondary school, for example, coloured belts to wear about the waist were awarded for "Deportment". We did study physics, maths, chemistry etc, but somehow those coloured tie-belts were highly prized along with the "easy" subjects of Home Skills, Drama, Art, - the "real" subjects for girls - 1979-85, UK.

[Ana WJ]

CHATTING ABOUT IT ON MY PATREON

[Roman Clodia · Rating 4 out of 5]

This tells a not unfamiliar story of a young girl's coming of age but what makes it stand out is Kincaid's creation of an utterly compelling voice for Annie John. Tracing those difficult years from 10-17, this shows us an Annie who transforms from the child who thinks her mother is everything, to the young woman who is forced to claim a self from behind the shadow of her mother.

That this emergence also coincides with Annie leaving Antigua for England where she will train to be a nurse, gives a shape to the book which can feel a bit gappy, especially in the final third. We have a weighty chapter where Annie is struggling with depression and then we find her packing for England in the next section without a transition. While there is much that is implicit and unsaid in the book, this unbridged change of mental state feels a little unsatisfying - though I can understand that there's no easy way into or out of depression.

Still, there is so much packed into this story which feels easy and straightforward on the surface but which also expresses points that were far less mainstream when it was first published in 1985: the way girls in postcolonial Antigua are not taught Caribbean history but instead are made to learn about history from the point of view of imperialists such as Columbus; how their personal histories and knowledge of slavery embedded in their family stories are not reflected in the public historical narratives. One highpoint for me is, then, when clever, rebellious Annie scrawls graffiti under the picture of Columbus in her history book!

The portrait of Antigua is subtle: the food, the lush landscape, the sea and the flowers, the snake that was hidden in a package carried by Annie's mother, the handmade wooden furniture all speak to a setting very different from urban Europe. And obeah and folk medicine still have a hold alongside 'science', while calypso dancing and singing is banned in schools - though that doesn't stop the girls doing both anyway.

But most of all Kincaid has captured a sense of an emerging personality in a textual voice. Annie is herself throughout whether high-spirited and rebellious against various forms of authority, or depressed and lost, having to be looked after by her parents. And as the book ends with her sailing for England, I was left dying to know what happens to Annie next.

[Sawsan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jamaica Kincaid is a good storyteller, her style of writing is simple, touching and full of life
a story of Annie john, an intelligent young girl growing up in Antigua.
her life from the age of ten until seventeen, a transition from childhood to adolescence
the misbehavior at the beginning of her teens and the changes in her relationship with her mother and friends
it's a growing up novel, showing moral, intellectual and emotional developments of Annie's character
Kincaid also draw a picture of social, educational and spiritual life of Antigua in the colonial period

[fantine · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my mother. Out of the corner of the other eye, I could see her shadow on the wall, cast there by the lamplight. It was a big and solid shadow, and it looked so much like my mother that I became frightened. For I could not be sure whether for the rest of my life I would be able to tell when it was really my mother and when it was really her shadow standing between me and the rest of the world.”

Annie John follows a confident, smart, popular girl growing up in the small Caribbean island of Antigua. Suddenly she turns 12 and her life changes. She finds herself no longer a girl but a woman and her mother, whom she has always been close with, begins to treat differently.

This is a novel of absolute heartbreak, of what is, for many, the perhaps essential, singular heartbreak of girlhood – the realisation that you are a separate being from your mother and that you may never be together as you once were. That to come into your own means reckoning with a strange new loneliness.

Generational ideals clash as Annie John grows and struggles against the tradition and convention of her family structure and the smallness of her home, her world. How can she maintain her tenacity, the core of her being, what makes her so her?

The island is a beast of its own, so alive and discordant. Schoolgirls practice kissing in the graveyard. Doctors face pathetic fallacy. England looms and its customs must be honoured even in the tropical heat. Kincaid is incredible at exploring the complexity of the colonised home, of place as a parent and guardian but also a punisher or abuser.

A writer of coming-of-age like no other, truly. Kincaid's characters are my favourite; not good, not bad but that better third thing, they are so so interesting, in a way they that they have surely been labelled 'unlikeable' by many. But to write girls burgeoning on womanhood with such boldness, such belief? They could never make me hate you<3

Perhaps life-changing... if you get it you get it if you don’t you don’t...

[Raul · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love stories about childhood, so it was no surprise to me that I really liked this one. My first Jamaica Kincaid book and a wonderful one at that too. Annie John, the narrator of this story, is a girl from Antigua, and through Kincaid's brilliant prose we are able to look at her development, her friendships, her relations with her parent especially her mother and the simple and not-so-simple joys and miseries that accompany that crucial moment in life.

It has been interesting to discover that Jamaica Kincaid's fiction is relatively derived from her own life. I found her own words about it even more interesting: "Everything I say is true, and everything I say is not true. You couldn't admit any of it to a court of law. It would not be good evidence."

Going into my shelf of books about childhood and friendship I love alongside Sula, The Neapolitan Novels, So Long, See You Tomorrow, Lives of Girls and Women and Cat's Eye

[Chrissie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Jamaica Kincaid writes here a coming of age story about an Antiguan child. It is fiction with elements of her own childhood thrown in. The author was born in St. John's, Antigua, in 1949. Jamaica Kincaid is her nom de plume, her name at birth being instead Elaine Potter Richardson. The central protagonist of the novel is Annie John. We follow her from the age of ten to seventeen, when she is to leave the island for Britain to be educated as a nurse. Kincaid also left Antigua at seventeen, but she was sent to Scarsdale in the US to be an au pair. There are differences and there are similarities between the novel and the author's life. A similarity is the rift that arises between Annie John and her mother; the author felt a similar rift with her own mother when her three brothers were born. As one reads the book one cannot help but compare one to the other. This became for me an added point of interest.

Annie John's close and loving relationship with her mother is evocatively and beautifully drawn. Reaching sexual maturity, all changes; her mother puts up a barrier between herself and her child, a barrier that had not been there before. She imposes societal norms; rules are to be followed. Annie John simply does not understand. She is bereft and confused and angry. And she rebels, but what teenagers don't rebel as they reach puberty?! In this way the story's scope widens. Mother daughter relationships and the process of maturation are the central themes of the book. In the background we are given a description of daily life in Antigua while it was still under colonial British rule. Religious beliefs, island traditions and cultural mores are described.

The book is not about race. Annie John is a maturing young girl of any race, she just happens to have skin the color black. I like this; it reinforces that we are, in fact, all the same.

I like the reality of Annie John's life. We are not given a neat story with problems solved and relationships neatly tied up and mended. Instead we are delivered life as it really is. Annie matures, but maturation is not over by the book's end.

Is the book appropriate for teenage girls? Yes, it is, but it is equally appropriate for adults.

I like the book, and that is why I have given it three stars. There are portions that may speak to others more than they speak to me. How Annie rebels is one example.

I listened to the audiobook narrated by Robin Miles. She is a stellar narrator, one you can always count on. She wonderfully captures the island dialect and the characters' personalities. She reads in a clear and easy to follow manner. Five stars for the narration.

[Zanna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Annie John is as succinct as a poem, saying only what is both necessary and beautiful, yet it has a dreamy atmosphere, the rhythm of a slow swimmer. The opening chapter introduces the lyrical imagistic style and tightly focused first person viewpoint with a meditation on death, which appears as tiny 'figures in the distance' and gradually stalks nearer, stripping illusions of safety and stability.

I related to the early parts of the novel which describe, very beautifully, the love and closeness between Annie and her mother

She smelled sometimes of lemons, sometimes of sage, sometimes of roses, sometimes of bay leaf. At times I would no longer hear what it was she was saying; I just liked to look at her mouth as it opened and closed over words, or as she laughed. How terrible it must be for all the people who had no one to love them so and no one whom they loved so, I thought

At a moment when her mother expects her to grow up a little, a rift starts to open between them. While it widens progressively, Annie's story parallels her mother's Meanwhile, she really does grow up, still deeply rooted in her world. Friendships sweeten menarche and school days, where colonialism plays out under critical examination. Annie's old notebooks show 'a wrinkled up old woman wearing a crown on her head and a neckful and armfuls of diamonds and pearls' but her new one, with better quality paper, has a cover of 'black-all-mixed-up-with-white'. She reflects on the false history at school saying

we, the descendants of the slaves, knew quite well what had really happened, and I was sure that if the tables had been turned we would have acted differently; I was sure that if our ancestors had gone from Africa to Europe and come upon the people living there, they would have taken a proper interest in the Europeans on first seeing them, and said “How nice,” and then gone home to tell their friends about it

Annie's relationship with her parents is complex. When she looks around her home and sees everything there made or provided by her father and mother especially for her, I am surprised that she feels stifled rather than appreciative, but I can understand her emotions as part of being adolescent. However, her mother clearly stands 'between me and the rest of the world' when she forbids her to play with marbles, or calls her a slut when she sees Annie simply talking to a group of boys. The narrative's core is classic; the young girl finding refuge in books as she drifts apart from her family, yet Kincaid weaves the threads of Annie's life with exceptional artistry to give the story a unique appeal. After her illness, her depression reminds me of Esther's in the Bell Jar, and the prose sometimes reminds me of Plath's in its pace and the nonchalent originality of its imagery. For me though, it's the decolonising impulse that moves Annie away from her mother as another agent of domination, and the sense of place and interconnections between people and land form the depths, that move the tale most powerfully.

[BookOfCinz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Re-Read June 2025
After giving this a re-read, I truly appreciate this book. I get why it is such a classic.

I really wanted to like this book but it felt so flat and rushed for me. I could not for the life of me connect with Annie. I really tried, I think I may have to revisit this book.

[Paula Mota]

DNF@30%

Fico satisfeita por a Alfaguara ter trazido este clássico moderno da literatura caribenha para Portugal, mas infelizmente não é livro para mim.
Jamaica Kincaid impressionou-me com “Girl”, um dos micro-contos mais poderosos e perturbadores que já li, mas a voz pueril neste romance semi-autobiográfico, que acompanha a protagonista dos 10 aos 17 anos, não estava a proporcionar-me uma leitura acima da média.

As we sat in this bath, my mother would bathe different parts of my body; then she would do the same to herself. We took these baths after my mother had consulted with her obeah woman, and with her mother and a trusted friend, and all three of them had confirmed that from the look of things around our house—the way a small scratch on my instep had turned into a small sore, then a large sore, and how long it had taken to heal; the way a dog she knew, and a friendly dog at that, suddenly turned and bit her; how a porcelain bowl she had carried from one eternity and hoped to carry into the next suddenly slipped out of her capable hands and broke into pieces the size of grains of sand; how words she spoke in jest to a friend had been completely misunderstood—one of the many women my father had loved, had never married, but with whom he had had children was trying to harm my mother and me by setting bad spirits on us.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an interesting coming of novel set in Antigua in the 1950s, when it was still under British rule. It concerns Annie John and takes us from when she is ten until she is seventeen and is leaving the island to go to England. Kincaid covers a wide range of issues, but in particular mother/daughter relationships, education, the tension between local indigenous beliefs and those imposed by the colonial power (especially in the realm of health), teenage sexual exploration, poverty and the effects and misdiagnosis of depression.
Kincaid says that her fiction usually has an element of autobiography and clearly the relationship with her own mother is partly reflected here. Kincaid writes Annie’s ambivalence about leaving home very well, there is an honesty about the protagonist and she does feel like any number of teenagers one might have met with the sense of rebelliousness and experimentation. Also the sense of a child beginning not to understand her mother and to wrestle with starting to grow up:
“I immediately said how much I loved this piece of cloth and how nice I thought it would look on us both, but my mother replied, ‘Oh, no. You are getting too old for that. It’s time you had your own clothes. You just cannot go around the rest of your life looking like a little me.’ To say that I felt the earth swept away from under me would not be going too far.”
The reader follows Annie’s internal feelings and struggles as she begins by loving her mother and then feelings develop which feel more like hatred and even fear as she talks about her mother’s shadow:
“It was a big and solid shadow, and it looked so much like my mother that I became frightened. For I could not be sure whether for the rest of my life I would be able to tell when it was really my mother and when it was really her shadow standing between me and the rest of the world.”
There is a description of the development of depression when Annie is fifteen which is very powerful:
“In the year I turned fifteen, I felt more unhappy than I had ever imagined anyone could be. It wasn’t the unhappiness of wanting a new dress, or the unhappiness of wanting to go to cinema on a Sunday afternoon and not being allowed to do so, or the unhappiness of being unable to solve some mystery in geometry, or the unhappiness at causing my dearest friend, Gwen, some pain. My unhappiness was something deep inside me, and when I closed my eyes I could even see it. It sat somewhere–maybe in my belly, maybe in my heart; I could not exactly tell–and it took the shape of a small black ball, all wrapped up in cobwebs.”
It’s a vivid description and the whole works well as a description of the pains of growing up and becoming a separate person to one’s parents.

[Lori Keeton · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jamaica Kincaid is a new author for me. She writes about her home of Antigua in the Caribbean and thus a distinct culture as well. In this short novel, the protagonist, Annie John, is introduced and right away you know this is going to be a very unique coming-of-age tale. Annie John was originally published in The New Yorker in 1985 as a series of separate stories. I did not realize this until after I’d finished the book and didn’t note any disconnect from one story to the next. Each episode works together well and fluidly as Annie John is the narrator of each one.

The atmosphere of the story is haunting and provocative. The themes are heavy yet I am sure there are those among us who can relate. Annie John’s obsession with the nature of death from Chapter 1 is carried throughout as she grapples with its meaning as well as the loss and pain that comes from death. There was a fear of touching a corpse in this culture and of the living dead.

I was afraid of the dead, as was everyone I knew. We were afraid of the dead because we never could tell when they might show up again.

As the story unfolds, the crux of the themes is seen in the mother-daughter relationship. Here 10-year-old Annie worships her mother and thinks she can do no wrong. Her identity is connected to her mother until the day that she completely changes her mind. Her life is rather idyllic and perfect in her mind. Her mother and father devote their attention to her - her mother even chews up food that is too difficult and still bathes with her. They wear matching dresses and Annie John cannot imagine life being any better or how any girl can survive without a mother. Annie’s maturity from child to woman is described in vivid detail and we get to go through puberty with her (hooray!) No woman wants to do that again!! HA!

Then the day comes when she is 12 that Annie’s mother decides she cannot go around the rest of [her] life looking like a little me. This is the massive dividing act that swiftly changes Annie’s ideas about her mother from adoration to hatred. Now she can no longer look at her once beautiful mother without seeing an ugly ogre. This separation between mother and daughter is also a type of death that Annie must figure out. Annie John’s battle with her own identity now becomes center stage.

Out of the corner of one eye, I could see my mother. Out of the corner of the other eye, I could see her shadow on the wall, cast there by the lamp-light. It was a big and solid shadow, and it looked so much like my mother that I became frightened. For I could not be sure whether for the rest of my life I would be able to tell when it was really my mother and when it was really her shadow standing between me and the rest of the world.

The remainder of the book deals with the feelings of abandonment and how Annie deals with her new perception of her mother who was once her entire world. I can’t say that this popular, intelligent girl who performed well in school was very likable. She is the type to question cultural norms that want her to be polite and well-mannered. Regardless, every young girl must go through varying stages of growing up, and not all of it is a bed of roses. There are growing pains that cause consternation with parents and challenges to doing what they think is best for us. It’s a story we could all write and have similar yet completely different paths to our present.

[Jessaka · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’d Rather Be Ironing

What a strange little girl, I thought, as I laid in bed trying to get to sleep while reading this book. Annie John was obsessed with death. She went to funerals of people she diddn’t know and hung out at the cemetery, and I could be exaggerating. Never read a book about death when you are old and trying to sleep. I put the book down . . The next morning, I picked the book up as I thought again, This child is weird. Do kids really , like doing these things? Then I Realized, “I was just as weird. Maybe I didn’t go to funerals, but I visited the graveyard, and I found a bobcat skull, still on the dead bobcat and brought it home. I gave it away to my niece when I was told that I was weird to have it. I have a coyote skull now.

Then she became even more weird. She liked this girl in school, and I believe that she was a lesbian, just coming out, but that is not what made her weird. The red-faced girl that she loved pinched her, and it made her cry. Then the girl kissed her. So, the game began, pinch, cry, and then kiss. How will that be when she grows up? Maybe she will grow out of it as she had graveyards.

And during the time that I was reading this book, I had decided to put the 34” cloth doll that my sister had me in the dryer to get the dust out of it. Having a doll at my age could be considered weird. The doll has a painted face, blonde wool hair, a peasant maroon colored dress with a white apron. I forgot that I had put pin buttons on her bodice years ago, and the next day I found them in the dryer. One of the pins says, “I’d rather be ironing,” and the other, “Ladies against women.” I had gone to a play in Berkeley with some friends to see what I think was called “Ladies against women,” a lesbian play--a comedy. I laughed when I saw those pins and had to have them. And now I found it ironic to be reading a book about a lesbian girl at the same time that I found the buttons…

.

One day her mother found her under the porch, crawling around, and when she came out, she had a marble in her hand to give to the red-faced girl. Her mother wanted the rest of her marbles, but she insisted that she didn’t have any, so her mom crawled under the porch to look. And she looked and looked, but she could not find them. All this work by her mother just because Annie was playing with marbles when she should have been doing something else. By now I am thinking that her mom is a little odd. I think she could have spent her time ironing, as it would have been more productive.

[Rowena · Rating 4 out of 5]

Annie John is the coming-of-age story of a 10 year old Antiguan girl. It’s a quick read;the thoughts of a very curious young girl obsessed with death and slowly taking in all the nuances that surround her, who becomes a highly intelligent adolescent who is uninterested in most things.

Annie is very much attached to her mother but finds, with the onset of puberty, that things will never be the same again, and she becomes resentful. Annie goes from idolizing her mother to almost hating her.

This book was set in colonial Antigua and it’s obvious that Kincaid didn’t much care for the British colonizers. This sentiment is shown the strongest in the classroom, where the teachers teach the Caribbean children from a British curriculum. As I was reading this, I remembered a verse in an African-Canadian poem that I had read recently:

"I read a thousand voices
None of them speak to me
Not one of them speak of me." -Wayne Salmon, Curriculum

I found Annie to be an unlikeable character. She went from being a precocious, endearing child to one who thought she was superior to everyone. I guess that might be the result of her becoming jaded with age as she witnesses the double standards about her, and is confused by the contradictions of her Christian faith and the traditional obeah practices her mother follows from time to time.I may have been a little too hard on Annie.

I think this book will resonate with a lot of people, it definitely took me back to my childhood at some points.

[Cláudia Azevedo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Annie John é a personificação da infância perdida. A criança feliz dá lugar à adolescente rebelde que passa a ver a mãe como rival e figura indesejada. É o tempo dos sentimentos contraditórios em que o amor mais puro se transforma em ódio violento e visceral.
Jamaica Kincaid é contundente no modo como descreve a morte da inocência.

[Repellent Boy · Rating 2 out of 5]

2,5 Tenía muchas ganas de leer esta novela. Había leído muchas cosas bonitas de esta obra, y la zona en la que se centra la historia me parecía que me podía transportar a nuevas culturas y lugares que no conocía hasta ahora. El caso es que, me costó muchísimo conectar con los personajes. Al ser narrado en primera persona por Annie y la forma tan peculiar que esta tiene de contar su historia, realmente solo la conocemos en profundidad a ella. Y no terminaba de caerme bien durante la novela. No terminaba de entenderla. Tampoco creo que repare demasiado en la cultura propia del lugar, solo muy superficialmente. Afortunadamente, seguí leyendo la novela, que además es cortita, y poquito a poco fui entrando en ella, y valorando otros aspectos consiguiendo que al final me haya dejado un buen sabor de boca.

Annie John es una niña que ha nacido en Antigua y Barbuda, una de esas islas que Colón "descubrió" en una de sus expediciones. Increíblemente lista, pronto destacará en los estudios, y su rápido crecimiento la distanciará de su madre, la que hasta ese momento había significado el mundo para ella.

Me resultaron super interesantes sus reflexiones sobre la belleza de su madre y hacia sus amigas, pero a la vez, toda su rabia y su maldad eran volcadas también sobre ellas. Como si hubiera algo que no aceptaba. No se deja nada claro, pero creo que puede entenderse de esa manera.

En definitiva, un coming of age bastante interesante, que no ha terminado de encantarme, pero que sí me ha mantenido interesado en la lectura hasta un final satisfactorio.

[Leonor · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Annie John" é uma narrativa intimista que nos guia pela jornada de crescimento de uma jovem nas Caraíbas, num ambiente marcado por fortes tradições familiares, tensões coloniais e um universo profundamente sensorial. A autora, Jamaica Kincaid, oferece-nos uma história na primeira pessoa, vista por uma adolescente em conflito consigo mesma e com o mundo que a rodeia.

Existem várias camadas e temas nesta obra:

1. A ligação entre Annie e a mãe
A relação entre Annie e a mãe é o eixo emocional da narrativa. Inicialmente, a ligação é quase simbiótica: a mãe não é apenas uma figura de afecto e autoridade — é o centro do mundo de Annie. A filha observa cada gesto da mãe com admiração e desejo de imitação.
Partilham o mesmo espaço, tomam banho juntas, vestem-se com tecidos iguais, olhares cúmplices, quase como se Annie ainda não tivesse uma identidade própria.

"Agradava-me pensar que, mesmo antes de ver a minha cara, a minha mãe falava comigo como agora fala. Palrava sem parar. Nenhuma partezinha da minha vida era insignificante a ponto de ela não ter registado mentalmente qualquer coisa sobre ela, que depois contava e voltava a contar."

No entanto, a partir da adolescência, essa relação sofre uma ruptura silenciosa. A mãe, que antes era fonte de segurança, transforma-se numa presença vigilante, crítica, muitas vezes distante. Annie sente essa mudança como uma traição.
A dor desta separação não é apenas emocional: é física, mental e existencial. O amor transforma-se em ressentimento, raiva e, por fim, afastamento.

"Quando cheguei, a minha mãe veio ter comigo, de braços estendidos, com a preocupação estampada no rosto. Senti um travo amargo na boca, por não conseguir compreender como ela podia ser tão bonita, apesar de eu já não a amar."

"Antes, quando odiava alguém, desejava simplesmente que a pessoa morresse. Não podia, porém, desejar a morte da minha mãe. Se ela morresse, o que seria de mim?"

2. O peso do colonialismo na formação da identidade
O sistema colonial está presente não só nas estruturas sociais, mas nos detalhes quotidianos: a escola, os livros, as referências históricas e culturais. Através de Annie, percebemos o impacto psicológico da colonização: um sentimento de deslocamento, de inferioridade cultural, e de imposição de valores estrangeiros que entram em conflito com a cultura local e ancestral.

As figuras históricas ensinadas na escola — como Colombo — são tratadas como heróis, enquanto a própria história dos antepassados de Annie (descendentes de escravos) é ignorada ou distorcida.
Annie, ao crescer, começa a questionar esta narrativa oficial. Quando escreve por baixo da imagem de Colombo num livro escolar, é repreendida, o que revela o silenciamento sistemático de vozes locais.

"Ainda assim, nós, os descendentes dos escravos, sabíamos perfeitamente o que acontecera na realidade, e eu tinha a certeza de que, se a situação fosse ao contrário, teríamos agido de modo diferente; de certeza que, se os nossos antepassados tivessem viajado da África para a Europa e encontrado as pessoas que lá viviam, teriam percebido que os europeus eram interessantes e exclamado: «Que bonito!»"

"De mãos e pés acorrentados, Colombo estava ali sentado, a olhar para o ar, com uma expressão muito desanimada e infeliz. A legenda da imagem, impressa ao fundo da página, era: «Colombo Agrilhoado». Colombo, que costumava ser conflituoso, tinha-se envolvido num desaguisado com pessoas ainda mais conflituosas, e um homem chamado Bobadilla, representante do rei Fernando e da rainha Isabel, recambiara-o para Espanha(...)"

Esta tensão entre o que é ensinado e o que é vivido cria uma cisão na identidade da personagem, que já não se sente representada em parte nenhuma.

3. Metáforas familiares como reflexo do conflito cultural
Em "Annie John", a família não é apenas um núcleo afectivo: é um espelho das tensões históricas, sociais e espirituais que atravessam a ilha. A autora constrói personagens que funcionam, ao mesmo tempo, como pessoas reais e como símbolos vivos de diferentes visões do mundo.

O pai – símbolo do patriarcado colonial
O pai de Annie é uma figura mais distante, discreta, pouco afetuosa. Trabalha com as mãos, mas vive no mundo da razão, da reserva emocional. É um homem mais velho (35 anos de diferença em relação à esposa), que teve outras mulheres antes e filhos que não entram na vida de Annie.
Apesar de ser parte da família, é como se habitasse um plano mais europeu, masculino, silencioso.
Quando Annie diz que não quer casar com um homem velho como o pai, está a rejeitar não apenas o modelo conjugal, mas um sistema inteiro: autoridade sem afeto, estrutura sem vínculo, presença sem escuta.

A avó Ma Chess – guardiã das raízes espirituais
Já a avó materna, Ma Chess, representa o pólo oposto. É ancestralidade viva, raiz africana e feminina. Quando vem viver com Annie durante a doença, traz consigo rituais, banhos de ervas, proteção silenciosa. É uma figura que não fala muito, mas cuja presença é reconfortante, sólida.
A sua sabedoria não é escolar, mas sensorial, intuitiva, espiritual. Está ligada à terra, às ervas, ao corpo, ao invisível.
Ela representa uma herança que a escola e o sistema colonial procuram apagar — mas que resiste dentro da casa, dentro das mulheres.

As crenças populares e o choque com a razão
Durante a doença de Annie, a mãe recorre a práticas culturais como banhos de limpeza, invocações espirituais, e até a presença de uma curandeira para "afastar espíritos". Estas práticas não são vistas com ridículo: são tratadas com respeito, fazem parte da vida da ilha.
No entanto, há choque com o pai, que representa a visão racional e não acredita nesses rituais. A própria Annie parece suspensa entre estes dois mundos: o da razão e o do mistério, da ciência e da crença.

Este conflito simbólico entre pai e avó não é de ódio — como a própria Annie diz, "não se evitavam por não gostarem um do outro, mas porque não viam o mundo da mesma maneira". É um choque de paradigmas, que se reflete também nela, numa identidade fragmentada entre raízes e ruptura.

A mãe no meio do conflito
A mãe, por sua vez, tenta gerir os dois mundos. É prática, firme, cuidadora, mas também dá espaço às tradições. Contudo, com o tempo, alinha-se mais com o lado da autoridade, do controlo, e perde a conexão sensível que tinha com a filha. Torna-se, aos olhos de Annie, parte do sistema que oprime.

"O bisavô do meu pai tinha sido pescador, mas não devia ser muito competente, porque nunca apanhava muito peixe nas armadilhas. Um dia, quando saiu para verificar estes cestos, encontrou os habituais dois ou três peixinhos e ficou tão fulo, que, mandando Deus à fava, pegou nos peixes e devolveu-os à água. Recaiu sobre ele uma maldição, adoeceu gravemente e morreu.(...) As suas últimas palavras foram: «Aqueles malditos peixes!»"

4. O narrador adolescente e a limitação da perspectiva
A escolha de Annie como narradora na primeira pessoa é essencial para a construção da obra. Vemos tudo através dos seus olhos, do seu corpo em transformação, das suas emoções instáveis. Isso cria uma leitura subjectiva e íntima, mas também limitada. Não temos acesso directo ao que a mãe sente, ao que o pai pensa, ao que Gwen, a amiga, espera. Só conhecemos o mundo conforme Annie o percebe — e, muitas vezes, distorce.

Esta perspetiva parcial é parte do projecto literário. Jamaica Kincaid mostra-nos o caos interno da adolescência, com todas as suas contradições. Annie sente-se traída pela mãe, mas continua a depender do amor dela. Idolatra Gwen, depois despreza-a. Detesta a escola, mas deseja ser admirada nela.
O livro, por isso, não é linear nem moralizante: é honesto na confusão da juventude. E é precisamente por essa honestidade que Annie se torna uma personagem real, falível, viva.

"No ano em que fiz quinze anos, senti-me mais infeliz do que imaginava ser possível.(...) quando fechava os olhos, conseguia mesmo vê-la. Estava lá, algures, talvez dentro da barriga ou do coração — exatamente onde, eu não sabia dizer — ,e tinha a forma de uma bola preta pequenina, envolvida em teias de aranha. Só conseguia ficar ali sentada e olhar para mim mesma, sentindo-me a pessoa mais velha que alguma vez tinha vivido"

5. As amizades como projecção e desilusão
Ao longo do livro, as amigas de Annie representam fases da sua própria transformação. Gwen, por exemplo, começa como uma ligação intensa e quase romântica — a “única” amiga verdadeira — mas acaba por tornar-se alvo de irritação, frustração e até indiferença. A Rapariga Ruiva, por outro lado, é um símbolo de liberdade e rebeldia: suja, irreverente, misteriosa — o oposto das normas da escola e da casa.

Mas nenhuma amizade resiste muito tempo. Há sempre um afastamento, um corte, uma desilusão. Annie idealiza, projecta, depois destrói. E o que resta é um sentimento de isolamento crescente.
As colegas que invejam a doença de Annie representam outro lado da adolescência: a necessidade de se destacar nem que seja pela dor. Isso mostra um ambiente competitivo, opressivo, onde o afeto é frágil e a validação é rara.

6. A mudança escolar e a desconecção
A mudança de escola marca uma ruptura importante no livro. Annie, ao mudar de ambiente, já não se reconhece nas antigas amizades nem encontra aconchego nas novas. A distância em relação a Gwen, por exemplo, mostra que não foi apenas a escola que mudou — foi ela mesma. A nova escola traz novas normas, novos desafios, e Annie sente-se deslocada.

O facto de se tornar admirada pelas colegas — por ter estado doente, por parecer misteriosa, por ser diferente — não lhe traz satisfação. A vaidade momentânea não preenche o vazio interno.
Há uma mudança física evidente (ela cresceu, o corpo mudou), mas emocionalmente, Annie continua instável, desconectada, em busca de sentido. Esta fase da narrativa mostra que crescer não é apenas acumular experiências — é perder ilusões, e isso dói.

7. Escrita sensorial que nos transporta para a ilha
Uma das marcas mais fortes do livro é a forma como Jamaica Kincaid usa a escrita para envolver o leitor nos sentidos da ilha. Tudo é descrito de maneira a criar uma experiência quase táctil e sonora.

Essa escrita sensorial não serve apenas para ilustrar o cenário, mas para fazer da ilha uma personagem viva, quase palpável. Mesmo quando Annie parte para Inglaterra, essa presença física e emocional da ilha permanece com ela, como uma memória visceral impossível de apagar.

"Havia o som da gaivota que mergulhava na água e emergia com qualquer coisa prateada no bico. Havia o cheiro do mar e a imagem dos resíduos de lixo boiando em redor. Havia barcos cheios de pescadores, chegando cedo. Havia o som das suas vozes, quando trocavam saudações. Havia o sol escaldante, havia o mar azul, havia o céu azul. Não muito longe, havia a areia branca da praia, com casas decrépitas(...)"

8. O luto como processo de perda e transformação
Em "Annie John", o luto não aparece como um evento isolado, mas como um movimento contínuo e subtil. Annie vive vários lutos: o da infância que se esvai, o da inocência perdida, o da relação com a mãe que se desfaz, e o da despedida da ilha que sempre foi seu lar.

Cada um destes lutos é carregado de ambivalência — amor e raiva, desejo de liberdade e medo do vazio, esperança e tristeza. Annie sente-se muitas vezes dividida, presa entre o apego e a necessidade de partir.

O luto pela mãe é especialmente complexo, pois é uma perda que não é apenas física, mas emocional e simbólica. É o fim de um vínculo fundamental, daquilo que moldou a sua identidade até então. Ao mesmo tempo, é o reconhecimento da inevitabilidade da mudança e da construção de uma nova identidade própria.

Também a saída da ilha é um luto — uma separação geográfica que reforça a distância emocional.

Este tema do luto torna "Annie John" uma obra sobre a dor do crescimento, o peso das raízes, e a coragem de enfrentar o desconhecido, mesmo quando isso significa deixar para trás partes essenciais de si.

9. "Annie John" como livro de Revoluções
"Annie John" é um livro de revoluções internas e rupturas discretas, mas radicais. A protagonista trava guerras emocionais com tudo o que representava estabilidade na sua vida.

Revolução contra a mãe – A primeira grande rebelião de Annie é contra a autoridade emocional mais forte: a mãe. É um processo de separação violento, feito de ressentimentos, recusas, silêncios e desejo de autonomia. De certa forma, é a primeira insurreição de Annie contra um sistema opressor, mesmo que esse sistema seja doméstico.

Revolução contra o sistema colonial – Annie revolta-se contra os heróis impostos pela escola, contra a história escrita pelos colonizadores, contra a imposição cultural. A crítica a Colombo, o desconforto com os livros escolares, e o desinteresse pelas figuras europeias que deveria venerar mostram uma tomada de consciência anticolonial que nasce no íntimo da personagem. Não é um activismo directo, mas uma revolta intelectual e simbólica.

Revolução de identidade – Annie passa por uma série de desconstruções: do que é ser filha, ser aluna, ser mulher, ser negra, ser descendente de escravos. Não aceita os papéis que lhe querem impor. A decisão de partir é o culminar dessa revolta: sair para se reinventar, ainda que à custa da dor e da solidão.

Revolução contra o destino repetido – Quando diz que não quer casar com um homem velho como o pai, Annie recusa repetir o padrão familiar. Recusa herdar uma vida já traçada. A sua fuga é também uma tentativa de quebrar o ciclo, mesmo sem saber bem o que a espera.


"Sem deixar de me abraçar, declarou, num tom que me arranhou a pele: «Independentemente do que faças ou dos sítios para onde fores, serei sempre a tua mãe e esta será sempre a tua casa.»
Arranquei-me dos braços dela e recuei um pouco, depois sacudi-me com decisão, como que para despertar de um sono perigoso. Olhámos uma para a outra durante muito tempo, com sorrisos na cara, mas eu sei que tinha o oposto no coração."

[Os Livros da Lena · Rating 4 out of 5]

3,8

[Marta Silva · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 ⭐️
“Quando cheguei, a minha mãe veio ter comigo, de braços estendidos, com a preocupação estampada no rosto. Senti um travo amargo na boca, por não conseguir compreender como ela podia ser tão bonita, apesar de eu já não a amar.”

Gostei da escrita mas esperava uma narrativa mais tensa e laboriosa, em que a ligação afectiva, positiva ou não, fosse mais intensa.

Obrigado, Leonor <3

[TAP · Rating 3 out of 5]

What perfection we found in each other, sitting on these tombstones of long-dead people who had been the masters of our ancestors! Nothing in particular really troubled us except for the annoyance of a fly colliding with our lips, sticky from eating fruits; a bee wanting to nestle in our hair; the breeze suddenly blowing too strong. We were sure that the much-talked-about future that everybody was preparing us for would never come, for we had such a powerful feeling against it, and why shouldn’t our will prevail this time?

An exploration of growing up in Antigua and the loving hate that fuels a maternal relationship. We grow up with an idea of who our parents are, only to one day realize they are less than and more so what we believed—and we realize the same about ourselves.

[Bob Newman · Rating 3 out of 5]

Coming of Age in Antigua

We are lucky enough to be able to read a large number of autobiographies or semi-autobiographical novels in the world today. Both types of book impart the flavor of what it felt like to grow up in a certain place at a certain time. I can think of many such volumes from North America and Western Europe: outside that sphere, George Lamming (Barbados), Wole Soyinka (Nigeria), R.K. Narayan (India), Ismail Kadare (Albania), and Fadhma Amrouche (Algeria) have written beautiful examples of the genre as well. Most of these were written in colonial societies. So, to be fair, I think we have to place ANNIE JOHN among all these----to compare it to all the others.

Despite the raves of ten reviewers on the cover of the book---nine of whom are women---I felt only a moderate attraction to Kincaid's work. I often liked the flavor that she gives of what it felt like growing up on a West Indian island in the colonial era. Such flavors are a main part of why anyone would want to read ANNIE JOHN. The author develops a definite style, not exactly like other writers', constantly splitting from the direction you perceive she's heading. She sees positive and negative, pro and con, truth and pure wishful thinking. Her dream sequences are impressively written. The main character, Annie John, growing up with adequate clothing, food, and shelter with loving lower middle class parents, has a great stock of unpleasant memories, twisted desires, and in general, the `can of worms' view of childhood, yet there is almost nothing in her life to warrant it. This overall put me off because while it's true that we are rather ambivalent or mixed up in childhood/youth, and we nearly always rebel against our over-protective parents, we seldom sort it all out till later. To write as if Annie knew what was going on, and could afterwards put it all down on paper, seemed to me unrealistic. Naivete is the mark of childhood, not such all-knowingness. The characters of her parents and grandparents are more appealing than her own. Of course, some readers may empathize with Annie John, if they went through traumatic conflicts with their parents, but I did not.

My greatest criticism is that a lot of explanation is missing. Certain clues just don't appear. What made Annie change from love to hate of her mother ? Was it just because she entered puberty ? From good girl to bad girl ? Why did she go crazy for a long time ? These occur very abruptly. Why did she want to leave her island forever ? It's not at all clear that she had such a bad time. OK, she wanted something different. What made her opt for that choice?

By the end of the book, I felt that the rave reviews were something like a chick lit cheering section. They were entirely uncritical and unhesitating. I found Annie's character rather unpleasant and the novel or autobiography---not boring or poorly written---still missing some vital connections and leaving too many questions unanswered.

[Emma Deplores Goodreads Censorship · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is really 3.5 stars: the book gets points for a polished, literary writing style, but it is just so short, and most of it summarized. Its eight chapters could almost work as short stories, and Kincaid’s style often involves paragraphs that go on for a page or more, with few dramatized scenes.

This book is a coming-of-age story of a girl in Antigua, beginning when she’s 10 and ending when she’s 17. More than anything else the book focuses on Annie’s relationship with her mother; they are extremely close during Annie's childhood, but as she becomes a teenager they begin to fight constantly.

In all honesty, my biggest problem with the book is that on an emotional level it consistently left me rather baffled. For instance, here is the prepubescent Annie with one of her friends:

“Then, still without saying a word, the Red Girl began to pinch me. She pinched hard, picking up pieces of my almost nonexistent flesh and twisting it around. At first, I vowed not to cry, but it went on for so long that tears I could not control streamed down my face. I cried so much that my chest began to heave, and then, as if my heaving chest caused her to have some pity on me, she stopped pinching and began to kiss me on the same spots where shortly before I had felt the pain of her pinch. Oh, the sensation was delicious--the combination of pinches and kisses. And so wonderful we found it that, almost every time we met, pinching by her, followed by tears from me, followed by kisses from her were the order of the day. I stopped wondering why all the girls whom I had mistreated and abandoned followed me around with looks of love and adoration on their faces.”

Um, all right then? I have to say I’ve never had a relationship remotely like that. Especially not at age 12 or 13. Of course, reading wouldn’t be the pleasure it is if everything I read was already within my realm of experience, but the narrative method Kincaid uses here--lots of broad strokes and descriptions of relationships and feelings, not a lot of dialogue or scenes (the book weighs in at under 150 pages, after all)--is one that works best when readers can already relate to the situations described. If, like me, you don’t, you may be left a bit cold, seeing nothing but yet another coming-of-age story, and a weird one.

[Claire Fuller · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was originally published as a series of short stories by The New Yorker, about the character Annie John growing up on Antigua in the 1950 and 1960s, and then brought together as a novel, and for me this didn't particularly work. It felt very autobiographical (and apparently is) with little narrative thread apart from time passing and Annie hating everyone. Annie is a very difficult character to read - she is really quite horrible in the end about all the people she spends time with, especially her mother and cannot wait to leave. I did, however, really enjoy reading about life on Antigua in that period - about 15 years before independence from Britain, and the clash between more traditional Caribbean culture and medicine, and British.
Incidentally, in the early 2000s I went on holiday to Antigua with my kids and first husband. It is a beautiful island with lovely people but the trip was overshadowed by a disaster that has become one of those stories that families retell over and over. A story for another day.

[Ebony (EKG) · Rating 5 out of 5]

THE coming of age book I will recommend to everyone!!!

Annie John becomes increasingly unlikeable and relatable as we follow her from childhood through adolescence. She is startled and angry and becoming. She takes all of these feelings out on her mother, almost with a determination fueled by betrayal. She goes from being afraid of her mother’s death to almost welcoming it.

This reminded me of being a child and the desire to separate yourself from your home and parents to create your own identity. But is it all worth it?

[Monica Cabral · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Durante a maior parte da minha vida,  quando íamos os três juntos para todo o lado, eu andava entre os dois ou sentava-me entre eles. Mas depois cresci de mais, os nossos ombros ficaram mais ou menos ao mesmo nível,  e tornou-se relativamente desconfortável descermos a rua juntos. Portanto,  eles agora estão juntos, enquanto eu estou à parte. Já não os vejo como dantes, já não os amo como dantes."

Annie John de Jamaica Kincaid é narrado através dos olhos da Annie já adulta, nesta narração ela conta-nos a sua infância e adolescência na paradisíaca ilha de Antígua.
Annie era uma criança feliz e amada pelos seus pais, principalmente pela mãe, com a qual tinha uma relação de enorme cumplicidade e afecto. No seu 12° aniversário a sua mãe começa a afastar-se,  ergue uma barreira entre ela e Annie que nunca mais se desfaz. Esta barreira de frieza e falta de carinho é muito difícil de compreender para Annie,  ela começa a duvidar se alguma vez a mãe a amou e cai num estado de melancolia e raiva que não consegue controlar. 
Através da sua escrita cativante Jamaica Kincaid mostra-nos os obstáculos e provações que Annie encontra à medida que cresce e a sua incessante busca pela identidade, o seu eu. Perante estas provações Annie tem uma certeza: tem que separar-se da mãe e deixar a ilha.
Durante a narração de Annie senti-me  envolvida  na sua vida e fiquei com muita pena de que o livro seja tão pequeno pois gostava de saber mais da vida desta menina/mulher tão apaixonante.

[Alex · Rating 5 out of 5]

Estou a cair de sono e a culpa é da Annie John que ficou a contar-me a sua infância durante a noite.

Uma escrita cinematográfica, sem grandes detalhes, mas os suficientes para que consigamos percorrer o espaço como se fossemos a sombra de Annie. Trama pautada pela relação maternal, que nos envolve num ping pong de sentimentos dúbios, dispares, tantas vezes contraditórios: amo-te e odeio-te. Uma filha que herda o nome da mãe. Uma mãe que partilha o mesmo padrão de roupa. Um copy paste genético que se revela incompatível à medida que Annie cresce. Cresce com ela uma animosidade com a mãe e com quem a rodeia. Annie é uma criança inteligente e por isso alvo de atenção especial. O aproveitamento escolar contrasta com o comportamento intempestivo.

A leitura é viciante e o livro peca por ser pequeno de tão bom que é.
Um romance de estreia (1985) só agora publicado em Portugal mas bastante aclamado. Jamaica Kincaid é apontada como potencial prémio Nobel de Literatura.
@penguinlivros estou a contar os dias para a publicação dos próximos livros: Lucy e Autobiografia da minha mãe. Obrigada por trazerem uma autora tão incrível para cá.

“Pelo canto de um olho, via a minha mãe. Pelo canto do outro, via a sombra dela na parede, projetada pela luz do candeeiro. Era uma sombra grande e substancial, e tão parecida com a minha mãe, que me assustei. Isto porque não tinha a certeza se, durante o resto da vida, saberia distinguir quando era mesmo a minha mãe ou a sua sombra, atravessada entre mim e o resto do mundo”.