In spite of their different personalities, the two feel seemingly unmoored. The two no longer spend time together and Nadia becomes close to Aubrey. But, when he fails to collect from her after her appointment at the clinic Nadia is deeply hurt. Nadia, who is desperate to leave her town behind and wants to college, decides to get an abortion and Luke comes up with the money for it. Nadia and Luke begin sleeping together but their casual relationship is complicated when Nadia becomes pregnant. The actual story follows three people: Nadia Turner, who is seventeen and grieving the death of her mother (who committed suicide) the pastor’s son, Luke Sheppard, who is twenty-one and working in a diner after an injury ended his promising football career came to pastor’s son Aubrey, a pious girl who is living with her older sister. They seem particularly disapproving of young people and their ‘inhibited’ ways. Their traditional values are reflected through the judgments they make about the rest of their community. ‘The mothers’ are an older group of church-going women and their Greek chorus is interspersed throughout the narrative. The book is set in a conservative and religious Black community in Southern California. The reason why I cannot sing this book’s praises lies in its storyline, specifically in the way Nadia’s abortion is handled.

While I wasn’t overly keen the mother’s ‘chorus’, I remain in awe of Brit Bennett’s luminous prose. If I only had to rate this novel in terms of its literary merits this would easily get a 5 stars. After rereading it I found myself wondering whether this time around I would actually be able to appreciate The Mothers so I gave it another shot. I’ve read it twice and twice I fell in love with it. To say that I like that novel would be an understatement. And then came the advent of The Vanishing Half.

After reading a few chapters I set aside thinking that it was not for me. The first time I picked up The Mothers was back in 2017. You never knew when you would be sling-shot backward into its grip.” “Grief was not a line, carrying you infinitely further from loss.

The mothers bennett