Tayari Jones (Silver Sparrow; An American Marriage) knows how to write the intricacies of intimate relationships; complex ties within families and marriages abound in her stories. With Kin, she gives voice to two young women, Annie and Vernice, not sisters but "cradle friends" who maintain an unshakable bond across years and distance. Jones also writes a pitch-perfect South, the culture of 1940s Louisiana rolling off the page through sharp-tongued dialogue or when Annie explains the meaning of the word "trifling."
Annie and Vernice grew up without their mothers, raised by their Granny and Auntie, respectively. When Annie runs away to Memphis in search of her mama and Vernice goes off to college in Atlanta, their paths begin to diverge, physically and socially. Despite those widening differences, they stay connected, understanding that "What you have the same isn't what binds you. Hearts grow strings because of what you know that's the same, what happened to you that's the same."
Told in their alternating voices, Kin shows off Jones's considerable skill through strong pacing and a plot that is emotionally taut without feeling unnecessarily dramatic. Without fail, Jones delivers a brilliant turn of phrase, at turns witty and insightful. When Annie and Vernice reunite, they show their devotion to one another in ways both empowering and heartbreaking, proving that "Blood alone can't give you kinship." Especially as it spins to its difficult conclusion, Kin feels ambitious and accessible, emotionally challenging without pushing readers away. This is a moving story best shared between friends. --Sara Beth West, freelance reviewer and librarian