Book Review: Something Kindred by Talia Johnson
There’s something undeniably magnetic about a book that unfolds in a town burdened by secrets and steeped in family history. Talia Johnson’s Something Kindred caught my attention not just for its intriguing premise, but for how it weaves complex themes of identity, love, and the haunting shadows of the past into a tale brimming with relatable characters. From the moment I dove into Jericka’s world, I felt an unusual connection to her journey—one that extended beyond the confines of a fictional narrative.
Jericka’s story begins in flux. Relocating back to Coldwater, the hometown rife with memories and unspoken tensions, she navigates the tumultuous waters of adolescence, family dynamics, and her own burgeoning sexuality. The backdrop of Coldwater—a town established by freed peoples—adds an enriching layer to her adventure, emphasizing the significance of heritage and belonging. Jericka’s struggle with her mother’s illness and the weight of their shared past significantly shaped my empathy for her situation.
What I adore about Johnson’s portrayal of Jericka is how she thoughtfully explores relationships. Jericka’s reflection on her boyfriend, James, is refreshingly nuanced. Their intimate moment doesn’t define their relationship; rather, it allows Jericka to grapple with her emotions, showcasing a rarely seen perspective in teen literature. James emerges as a supportive character, steering away from typical tropes that often glamorize superficial relationships.
However, the narrative takes a darker turn when homophobia rears its ugly head, which caught me off guard. As Jericka spends time with her new friend Kat, a homophobic girl makes her presence known in a cruel and thoughtless manner. While I appreciated Johnson’s inclusion of varying degrees of prejudice—recognizing its often stark reality—I found myself longing for Jericka to confront this hatred with more fervor. Her reluctance to stand firmly against the girl’s comments felt like an opportunity missed, especially given her own bisexuality. A clear content warning would have also been beneficial for younger readers navigating these emotional landscapes. After all, reader safety is paramount, and awareness can foster more informed decisions about when to engage with challenging material.
Yet, despite these triggering moments, Something Kindred is far more than a tale solely defined by its struggles. The subtle supernatural element brilliantly weaves into the tapestry of Coldwater, offering insights not only about the town but also reflecting the tumultuous lives of its inhabitants. This enriching layer helped ground the emotional core of the novel, making it a powerful commentary on acceptance and self-discovery.
I couldn’t help but find myself charmed by the cast of characters, especially Kat, whose small gestures spoke volumes. Johnson’s ability to create connections through these personas left an indelible impression, reminding me of the quiet magic that can arise from newfound friendships.
In conclusion, Something Kindred is a heartfelt, character-driven journey that deftly navigates complex themes of identity, love, and family secrets. I wholeheartedly rate this book a 5/5 and recommend it to anyone seeking a rich, emotional experience. It’s particularly fitting for young adult readers curious about the layers of relationships and the importance of authenticity in the face of adversity. With its beautifully flawed characters and poignant themes, this book won’t just fill your time; it will resonate long after the final page is turned.