Jessica George’s debut novel Maame introduces us to Madeline “Maddie” Wright, a 25-year-old British-Ghanaian woman navigating the complex terrain between family obligation and personal independence. The title itself—”Maame,” meaning “woman” in Twi—holds significant weight throughout the narrative, representing both the burden of responsibility placed on Maddie’s shoulders from a young age and the strength she eventually discovers within herself.
George crafts a protagonist so achingly real that you feel her anxieties, hopes, and small victories as intimately as your own. Maddie, a self-described “late bloomer,” serves as her father’s primary caretaker as he battles Parkinson’s disease, while her mother spends extended periods in Ghana running a family hostel. Meanwhile, her older brother James has effectively abandoned his familial responsibilities, leaving Maddie to shoulder the weight alone.
What’s remarkable about this novel is how skillfully George balances the heaviness of Maddie’s circumstances with moments of genuine humor and warmth. The narrative doesn’t shy away from difficult themes—grief, depression, racism, caregiver burnout—but delivers them with such authenticity and occasional lightness that the reader never feels overwhelmed.
Maddie’s Journey: From Caretaker to Self-Advocate
When we first meet Maddie, she’s living what feels like half a life—working as a personal assistant at a theater where she’s the only Black person in most meetings, caring for her father with unwavering dedication, and navigating her mother’s sporadic presence and exacting expectations. Her personality is shaped by a desperate desire to please others and avoid conflict, often at the expense of her own well-being.
George brilliantly portrays Maddie’s anxiety through her constant Google searches, which serve as both a coping mechanism and a window into her insecurities. These searches become a distinctive narrative device that feels both humorous and heartbreaking:
Google: Jobs with the happiest employees
Number one on the list is … teaching.
That’s got to be a lie.
The novel takes flight when Maddie’s mother returns from Ghana and Maddie sees her chance to move out and start living independently. What follows is a series of “firsts”—first flatshare, first real relationship, first heartbreak—that are by turns exhilarating, devastating, and transformative. Maddie’s voice remains consistently engaging, even as she makes mistakes and struggles to find her footing in a world that has suddenly expanded.
Cultural Identity and Belonging
One of the novel’s most compelling aspects is its nuanced exploration of cultural identity. Maddie exists between worlds—not Ghanaian enough for her family in Ghana, yet constantly reminded of her otherness in predominantly white British spaces. Her inability to speak Twi fluently becomes a recurring source of shame, particularly when interacting with extended family.
George masterfully portrays the subtle microaggressions Maddie experiences in the workplace and dating world. When Maddie discovers that her white boyfriend Ben has been treating his white girlfriend considerably better than her, the novel provides a searing commentary on the intersection of racism and dating without ever becoming didactic.
The author writes with particular insight about the “diversity hire” experience. At Maddie’s new publishing job, her ideas are appropriated without credit, yet she’s paraded in front of clients as evidence of the company’s inclusive practices. These scenes will resonate painfully with many readers who’ve found themselves in similar positions.
Grief, Depression, and the Path to Healing
When tragedy strikes midway through the novel, George handles Maddie’s grief with exceptional sensitivity. The portrayal of depression feels raw and honest, avoiding both romanticization and oversimplification. Particularly powerful are the scenes where Maddie speaks to her deceased father, gradually processing her complex feelings of love, guilt, and loss.
The novel shines in its depiction of Maddie’s therapeutic journey. Her sessions with Angelina, a Ghanaian therapist, provide some of the book’s most insightful moments. Through these conversations, Maddie begins to confront the weight of the name “Maame” and what it has meant for her development:
“I think I hate what it means and what it’s done to me. It made me grow up when I should have had more time.”
Stylistic Strengths and Minor Shortcomings
George’s prose strikes an impressive balance between accessibility and depth. The writing is clear and conversational, yet capable of profound emotional resonance. Maddie’s internal monologues—including her conversations with “Subconscious Maddie”—provide both comic relief and psychological insight.
The novel’s pacing occasionally falters in the middle sections, with some dating scenarios feeling slightly prolonged. Additionally, a few secondary characters—particularly Maddie’s flatmates—could have benefited from more dimension. However, these are minor quibbles in an otherwise accomplished debut.
At times, the narrative relies somewhat heavily on coincidence—Maddie running into her mother with her lover, or Sam turning out to be connected to her workplace. Yet these moments generally serve the plot effectively and contribute to Maddie’s growth.
Supporting Cast: Friendship as Salvation
Among the novel’s greatest strengths is its portrayal of friendship as a lifeline. Nia and Shu, Maddie’s closest friends, provide the unconditional support and honesty she desperately needs. Their dynamic feels lived-in and genuine, particularly in the novel’s most painful moments.
The romantic relationships in the book—particularly the contrasting experiences with Ben and Sam—effectively illustrate Maddie’s evolving sense of self-worth and boundaries. Sam, especially, emerges as a thoughtfully rendered character whose own experiences with loss complement Maddie’s journey without overshadowing it.
Verdict: A Remarkable Debut Worth Celebrating
Maame by Jessica George is that rare debut that feels fully realized—confident in its voice, ambitious in its themes, and emotionally resonant throughout. Jessica George has crafted a protagonist whose struggles and triumphs will linger with readers long after the final page. The novel gracefully addresses weighty topics like intergenerational trauma, caregiver burnout, grief, and racial identity while maintaining a sense of hope and even joy.
Strengths:
Authentic, multilayered protagonist whose growth feels earned
Nuanced exploration of cultural identity and belonging
Sensitive portrayal of depression and grief
Realistic depiction of therapy as a path to healing
Sharp observations about workplace racism and tokenism
Warm, genuine portrayal of female friendship
Areas for Improvement:
Some secondary characters could be more fully developed
Occasional pacing issues in the middle sections
A few plot points rely somewhat heavily on coincidence
For readers who enjoyed Candice Carty-Williams’ Queenie or Yaa Gyasi’s Transcendent Kingdom, Maame by Jessica George offers a similarly compelling exploration of cultural identity, mental health, and the journey toward self-acceptance. Unlike those works, however, this novel stands as George’s debut—making its accomplishments all the more impressive.
The novel concludes with a beautifully rendered epilogue that strikes the perfect balance between resolution and open-endedness. Maddie’s journey isn’t “complete”—she’s still working through her grief, still learning to assert herself, still finding her way—but she’s undeniably moving forward with a newfound sense of purpose and self-knowledge.
In the end, Maame by Jessica George is not just about the burdens we inherit but the strength we discover when we finally allow ourselves to put those burdens down—or, at least, to share them. It’s about learning that being responsible for others doesn’t mean sacrificing yourself, and that being vulnerable isn’t the same as being weak.
Jessica George has announced herself as a formidable new voice in contemporary fiction, and I eagerly await whatever she writes next. Maame may be focused on a “late bloomer,” but George herself has arrived right on time, with wisdom and talent beyond her years.
For Readers Who Loved Maame
If you connected with Maddie’s story, consider these thematically similar novels:
Queenie by Candice Carty-Williams
Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi
Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid
Exciting Times by Naoise Dolan
Open Water by Caleb Azumah Nelson
Each explores themes of cultural identity, mental health, and finding one’s voice in a world that often seems determined to silence it—offering the same blend of emotional depth and sharp social observation that makes Maame by Jessica George so compelling.