I love a good love story. So few novels about love get the right balance between poetic feeling and poignantly rendered realistic detail. But Caleb Azumah Nelson confidently combines these elements to produce a debut that's beautifully distilled yet expansive in what it's saying. It's about two young black British people who meet in a pub in South East London. Their relationship starts as a friendship and tenderly eases into romance. They're in their early-mid twenties and trying to maintain their artistic aspirations while earning money. He's a photographer and she's a dancer. Nelson narrates the story in the second person to focus on his perspective. This gives the compelling effect of being at a distance at the same time as being privy to his innermost being. It's like the act of being photographed itself where you feel curiously both inside and outside yourself at once. There's a lot in this book about the act of seeing which develops in nuance and meaning with the impactful refrain: “It's one thing to be looked at, and another to be seen.” There's a freedom in truly being yourself but there are consequences that come from such vulnerability. “Open Water” powerfully captures the longterm effects of two specific people who really see each other as uniquely beautiful and endearingly flawed individuals.
The story references and pays tribute to the influence of current writers like Zadie Smith and Teju Cole – in the case of Smith through a literal meeting with her at a book signing. As well as giving a sweet nod to these figures it makes complete sense that the male protagonist is guided by these writers' words as he ponders what it really means to inhabit a black body. It's powerful how his story shows the complicated formation of his masculinity as he's expected to be both tough and sensitive, grateful for his opportunities as well as resigned to the knowledge that he's undeservedly feared. Momentary respite from these pressures is elegantly captured in fleeting encounters with other individuals at Carnival Sunday or in a barbershop where there's a shared understanding of this ever-present burden. There's a swirl of experiences described in brief, emotionally charged chapters from getting a takeaway after a night out to a joint being shared with a near stranger to tearfully watching the film of ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ to the sobering intrusion of being stopped and searched by the police. And there's also the heat and romance of this young man and woman alternately finding and losing one another. This is such a short book but I feel the resonance of all these moments and sensations like memories.
