Kin is a devastating, gorgeous, richly idiomatic novel that follows the diverging storylines of two orphaned “cradle friends” born in Honeysuckle, LA who grow up trying to make sense of their lives without mothers. The book itself interrogates the same question, over and over: what does it mean to be in a relationship with someone, whether you’re born into it, you happen into it, or you choose it? The epigraph of the book (an excerpt by Gwendolyn Brooks) sets the scene for this central grappling: “We are each other’s business: we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” The word “bond” couldn’t be better-appointed, as many of the relationships read more like weight or shackle than anything else, coercing their participants into situations they wouldn’t otherwise choose for themselves (I’m thinking especially of Annie’s stint at Lulabelle’s and Niecy’s gradual “shaping” by her mother-in-law) and destining them to seek and long for mothers they’ll never know. When Niecy tells a stranger she lost her mother when she was young, adding: “I’m fine, it was all a long time ago,” the other character responds: “When you lose your mama, there’s no such thing as a long time ago.” This truth radiates throughout the novel. The women mourn their mothers endlessly. There is a sense that both were born into conditions of pain they will never abate: these girls inherited relationships that threaten to drown them. On the other hand (the “magnitude” side), there is a beautiful way in which these two “cradle friends” complete and extend one another, making one another’s complex lives more bearable, more legible, more listened-to. They are the sunshine side of “bond”: they belong to each other. And, narratively, their parallelism makes the novel work.
One thing I found interesting is that while there are men in this book who wield great power over the plot lines, this is really a novel driven by women — and by their desires. So while the title is “kin,” Jones is more specifically interested in the relationships between women in the world. What does it mean to be a mother or sister, to have a mother or sister? What does it mean to not? The novel seems to suggest that friendships forged through care and intention — chosen family — are the buoying kind. Jones brilliantly suggests this by the book-ending the novel with, in chapter 1, baby Niecy calling for her mother, and, in the final line of the book, Annie “calling” for Niecy by listing her as the next-of-kin to the doctor who is about to perform the abortion that kills her. The circularities are striking. Jones is directing us to think about births, deaths, and the kin (chosen or blood) that coalesce around those watersheds. Niecy is Annie’s everything: her final word, her final calling. There is a beautiful and devastating sense of completeness in that amen.
The book is masterfully disorienting in the sense that we don’t know whether the plot is spooling or unspooling, and the manipulation of narrative time in the concluding chapters (not to mention the occasional introduction of letters into the otherwise straight-forward first-person narrations) only complicates this instability. For most of the novel, I found myself gripped by a narrative desire for Annie to find her mother — this seemed to be a central engine for the plot — but instead we find a lot of loose threads, or maybe stitches done and undone, especially as we attend to Niecey’s competing narrative, which seems to be unfolding in an entirely different plane. In both stories, new mother figures (Ola Mae, Lulabelle, Niecey’s mother-in-law) appear and disappear, embodying maternalism to varying degrees of goodness, and yet never “filling” the void the protagonists seek to address. Ultimately, Annie’s pursuit peters out, and we turn darkly to the plotline that ultimately kills her, and which Niecey captures, in one of the most masterful passages of the book, as follows:
“It was a sin. It was a shame. It was a scandal. Annie Kay Henderson was the daughter of Hattie Lee, who wasn’t cut out for mothering. She was the granddaughter of Irvina Henderson, who couldn’t cut out of mothering. Her great-grandmother was named Persephone because in slavery times, they called you any old thing. All this was in their Bible. All this Annie had memorized. What wasn’t on the record was that Annie had been told that her great-grandmother was called Michaelene. This is how Annie knew her granny couldn’t read. Her granny had touched that long name beginning with P and said, ‘My mother, Michaelene.’ Annie repeated after her, ‘My great-grandmother, Michaelene.'”
The passage couldn’t be richer. Persephone, of course, was the daughter taken from her mother — and the grief of their separation and occasional reunion created the four seasons — and Jones not only deftly manipulates that narreme but also plays with the adjacent motifs of naming and renaming, record-keeping, lineage, destiny, and faith.
Somehow, despite the novel’s morbidity, Jones’ prose sparkles with wit and surprising humor. It is fun and even funny to read, full of clever phrasings and arch asides. Annie describes dancing as follows: “When the songs get to swinging, I fell tiny, like a piece of dandelion fluff floating on the breath of god.” Other phrases charm and paint: “Bobo, nude and gleaming like a peeled grape,” and “it looked like he opened up his mouth and God tossed in a handful of teeth, not caring what went where,” and “a large clock let us know it was about lunchtime, although my stomach had long since sounded the alarm on that appointment.” And then, my favorite: “Granny’s speech was different when she had her teeth in. It was like listening to someone try to talk left-handed.”
I am, if you cannot tell, absolutely blown away by her genius. Something about the scope, social-mindedness, and idiomatic prose of this novel brought to mind Barbara Kingsolver’s Demon Copperhead. Both are masterful grapplings with the underlying shapes, conditions, and failings of humankind. This is a five-star book; it should be taught in canonical literature classes. Easily one of the best-executed books I’ve read in the past few years.
Book Club Questions: Kin by Tayari Jones.
+Why do you think Jones structured the book in this way, with the two alternating stories entwined with one another?
+What does Jones mean by “kin” and why did she title the book this way?
+There are many instances of sisters, twins, mother figures, sister figures through the book. Were there any throughlines in these relationships? What do you think Jones was saying about motherhood, sisterhood, and other kinships?
+The book begins with Vernice calling out her mother’s name (her first word!) and ends with Annie calling out Vernice’s name (her last word!). What did you make of this parallelism?
+The book is full of witty, vibrant, dynamic prose. What was your favorite line and why?
+Even though the book deals with heavy topics, there are parts of the book that read light and almost funny. How would you characterize the shifting tones in the book?
Our July Magpie Book Club Book.
Next month, we will be discussing Whistler by Ann Patchett! I’ll plan to have my review of the book ready by mid-July. I’ve already started it and am falling hard. My side car book: Maine Characters, a top Magpie reader rec for a beach read. After, I am torn between reading June Baby (beachy romance), House in the Pines (thriller), and The Unselected Journals of Emma Lion (Magpies LOVE this series, likened to Austen and L.M. Montgomery!)
If you’re looking for something lighter, you might enjoy my round-up of 2026 beach reads!
Meanwhile, I’ve already shared thoughts on two of the buzzies books of summer: Caro Claire Burke’s Yesteryear and Belle Burden’s Strangers. Both were heavily discussed across tons of conversations during my 20-year college reunion last weekend!
See my full list of the eight buzziest books for summer here.
What am I missing? What other books are we loving (or at least unable to put down) right now?
Shopping Break.
+Predicting this gingham dress will FLY.
+AYR just restocked their “high hopes” skirt and I kind of think this is the skirt equivalent of the Ruti magic pants — it promises insane comfort (pull-on, Peruvian pima modal–smooth, in a body-skimming column silhouette) but looks ultra-comfortable. Like you might be able to do anything in this skirt. Run a board meeting, chase the kids on the playground, grab dinner at a chic restaurant.
+I found a great cache of Ancient Greek sandals on super sale, including their jelly-style Eleftherias — which are probably my most worn pool sandal! They are super comfortable even though they are rubber and I always get compliments on them. I also own their jelly ballet flats and get lots of compliments on those, but they are in super limited sizes here (for only $60!). They also have the leather Eleftherias available for 30% off. These are really fantastic sandals. I wear them a ton.
+Fun station clover necklace.
+In another example of La Ligne always making exactly what I want to wear: this new 100% cotton Ketrl dress (use code MAGPIE10). A twist on a tee dress — a little more interesting thanks to the ruching, but super wearable thanks to length and material. They also released linen (!) colbys and this stunning linen maxi for a dressier occasion! Obsessed with the simplicity/restraint.
+THE pants of summer now come in a navy. Pair with THE tee of summer (according to Magpies – so many of you ordered this in the tomato red!)
+I do not need another pair of whipped track pants, but why does this navy set look so perfect…?
+Three other insanely good deal finds from Ssense: this striped Hunza G (ordered!), this red Tory Burch dress (75% off!), and this dramatic Simone Rocha pearl clutch I’ve lusted after forever (would be sooo good for a bride).
+Still finding infinite use cases for this cropped blazer situation. It looks adorable over a dress, ladylike with a skirt, polished with white jeans or shorts. It’s SO well cut. And the colors!
+AYR also released a long pair of denim shorts. I’ve seen this style cropping up all over and predict it will be more of a mainstay next season. What do you think?
+Wait I’m kind of obsessed with this clean little skort. I’m into the monochromatic styling on the site, too…from Donni’s latest drop!
+Somehow missed the release of these beyond adorable bag charms in J. Crew’s latest drop. I think I need the octopus! All my favorite J. Crew summer arrivals here.
+Two recent well-priced buys for my daughter: this American flag sweater and this swimsuit.
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