Open Water is a deeply felt novel of love, heartbreak, inner self, and what it's like to be Black in the UK at this time.

Nelson writes with such lyricism and honesty. You can't help feel with the narrator the wide range of emotions that they go through. Told in second person, you are attached in a way that another narrative perspective would have distanced the reader. It was a bold choice and it pays off dividends. Throughout the book, there are very self-aware references to other Black artists which I found had the effect of creating this lovely community. A way of lifting up other voices and creating touchstones of experiences.

Open Water is a novel that will sit with you for a long time.

Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin UK, Viking for kindly providing me with a digital copy of this book for review.
Well, I honestly don’t know where to start! Firstly I think it needs to be said that this is an impressive and ambitious undertaking for a debut novel, and what this author manages to pack into a fairly small amount of pages, it quite staggering really.
I found this novel very timely in light of the 2020 BLM protests last summer. It’s main story line is the evolvement of a romantic relationship between our main male character and a female dancer who starts out as his friend’s girlfriend. However, running alongside that storyline are themes of systemic racism, police harassment, social inequality, and personal growth. All of that makes it a pretty heavy and challenging read, despite its short length.
I found the writing style quite difficult as well if I’m honest. It was written in second person, which you would expect would make you feel more connected to the character, but I found it quite claustrophobic, jarring and distracting. The sentences used were also sharp and short and it times it felt like I as the reader was under fire- I did not feel I could just relax into the story. I wonder if this was intentional from the author as he explores the experience of being a black man, and the dangers and fears faced by just stepping out onto the street daily, and always feeling like you’re having to dodge a bullet or attack.
So while I can’t exactly say I enjoyed this book, it has certainly given me much to think about and I think this is an important new voice in literature and I’m sure there’s much more to come from him.

An astounding debut, that explores intimacy and what it means to expose your vulnerabilities to another.

The two central characters are introduced at a party and the attraction is instant. The introduction though is by a close friend to one and boyfriend to the other. To pursue the relationship would break all sorts of moral codes but to deny the electricity that fizzles between them is not possible. They settle for the only relationship they can take and nurture an intense friendship that slowly evolves. This is everything I had hoped for, and never really felt, whilst reading Normal People.

The two central characters have much common ground; both artists, a shared love of music & culture, both attended predominantly white fee-paying schools, as one of only a handful of black children. Throughout the book, there are numerous cultural references to books, art, music, even philosophy, which serves to create a truly immersive read. This is further amplified by second person narrative, never getting to know the names of the two central characters, which means you can only think of the characters as "her" and "me". That said, I did feel a little upset not to know the names of people I cared so much for.

Vulnerability and the fear of entering "open water" is explored throughout the book both in the sense of exposing your vulnerabilities to another within a relationship and struggling as a young black man in Britain today. Although short, this was a really remarkable book told with such tender, poetic language, where every line felt considered. I hope Caleb Azumah Nelson writes many more books - I will be keenly watching for anything he writes in the future.

Thank you to NetGalley and VikingBooks for a copy of #openwater for my honest review.

A beautiful love story, gorgeously written. I tried savouring this book to enjoy it longer, but kept finding myself completely hooked and unable to put it down. It’s one of those books that stays with you, and I find myself thinking about it frequently - it’ll stay on my bookshelf forever. Thank you.

I loved this book. Written in the second person, it is so beautifully crafted that at times it reads like poetry (I’m pretty sure I “shushed” anyone who tried to speak to me while I was reading it). It is a celebration of black artists, from Zadie Smith to Kendrick Lamar, and some passages in the book reminded me of the hazy, dreamlike cinematography in films such as If Beale Street Could Talk and Moonlight. No words are wasted.

Open Water is also an exploration of race, vulnerability and masculinity. The narrator’s everyday is interrupted by acts of racism against him, and those around him. What does it mean when someone decides you are a threat because of the colour of your skin? When they can’t see past their own prejudices? How does that constant state of fear and the trepidation to walk outside your own front door affect you and those that you love and who love you back?

Tender and beautiful, I feel lucky that it’s the author’s debut novel as it means that we have so much of his future work to look forward to.

My thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for the advance review copy in exchange for an honest review.

This is an amazing debut novel about what it means to be young, Black and British in today's society. He is a photographer, she is a dancer, and they fall in and out of love.

The poetic writing explores racism, police intimidation, masculinity and 'not being seen.' Open Water is written in the second person which some readers find off putting. I would champion it in this case as it fits with the view of 'It's one thing to be looked at and another to be seen.'

In essence, this is a love story but not a conventional one. It is a relationship which yearns for calmness but is often set adrift in the open water of the title and by the vagaries of society. This could be one of the books of 2021 and for such a short book, that is really saying something.

Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin: Hamish Hamilton for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Two people meet in a bar, introduced by a mutual friend. Male and female, there is an instant connection, which is made slightly awkward by the fact that this mutual friend is in fact, her new boyfriend. Whoops.

Best friends, colleagues, something close to lovers, they keep connected across London and university education in dance and photography.

This is told from his point of view, in the overwhelming majority. We don’t know and are never told their names, although we learn his family’s names and their characters in short, sharp bursts.

The recurring, slow build analogy of a relationship being open water, about allowing yourself to be vulnerable enough to hang on to someone else when you can’t tread your own water, permeates the book and the narrative in an all consuming way. I loved that, the way the narrator talks about his life and how hard it is to deal with all of the emotions and thoughts and pressures he deals with. He talks of plays he sees, films he watches and music he listens to, all of them evoking an emotional response that he somehow can’t put into words to the person he loves most of all.

This isn’t about a repressed Black man – he is open about crying in numerous places, alone and with others – he represents, for me at least, as a middle aged white woman, the tightrope balance between expressing your emotions and love and remaining ‘strong’ for your family.

As well as love, of forging that strong relationship beyond the bonds of family, he talks of the fear, the rage of being stopped by the police purely because he is a Black man on the streets of London and looks out of place, or matches the vague description of something, or because they can. Exploring the places your family came from while feeling and being British, holding all of those in your head simultaneously AND dealing with the actions of those who make you feel like this is not your home, even though you were born here – that’s tough. Nelson is on fire in these sections, and perhaps as a 26 year old British -Ghanaian, he’s drawing on his own experiences by writing a narrator who is also a young British Ghanaian – it certainly feels authentic.

“Open Water” is what I would call a blistering debut – it felt like kin with Sally Rooney’s Normal People in that it revolves around a young couple (not) being together, but also takes in questions of class and principles and how ‘you’ you need to be.

Thanks to Netgalley and Penguin – Viking for the DRC, as always! This book is available for pre-order, released on 4th February 2021.

Beautiful story, delves deep into love, race, ambition. An insight into how two people are perceived by society and how this affects their life journey.

I really couldn't get into this book. The characters were not at all likeable and the story itself didn't click with me at all.

This book is a wonderfully poetic yet tragic love story. At first, I found the fact that it was written in the second person quite jarring, but once you lean into it, the words take you away. The intimacy is amplified by the use of the second person narrative style, and the emotion alongside the exploration of masculinity and race is something that was so captivating and eye opening.

I think this is one of those books that everyone should read.

Thank you to @netgalley and the publisher @penguinukbooks @vikingbooksuk for the arc of this book released next month. "It is one thing to be looked at and another to be seen" Some books you just know within a few pages, you're going to love, and this is one of those books. It's also one of those books where my words feel inadequate and you're just going to have to read it for yourselves to see how blooming brilliant it is.

Open Water is a celebration of friendship and love between two unnamed young black characters. They both live in London, he's a photographer and she's a dancer, who also studies in Dublin. We go through the seasons as their relationship changes, with London being the perfect backdrop.

It is effortlessly cool and exciting. Intimate without being overtly sexual. I got lost in the sumptuous poetic prose and its beautiful ebb and flow. This is simply, a dazzling debut. I fell in love with this book. @caleb_anelson is a refreshing new voice and I'm very excited to see what's next.

Hard to review this book as I found it difficult to get into the writing style and don’t know much about the music mentioned
Having said that it was interesting to read about the two characters’ feelings and is very descriptive regarding how depressing it feels to be black and never to feel safe or free

I loved this book, which is surprising because I first started off thinking I wouldn’t like it. The reason for this is because it’s written in the 2nd person, but I quickly got over that because the writing is exquisite. This book reminds me of why I love reading books and that is because of words strung together so beautifully alongside examinations of the human condition. Particularly in the case, how fraught it can be to love someone. Every single time I put this book down I couldn’t wait to dive back into it, it had this pull on me and every time I picked it backed up it was like walking into a hug.
This is a short narrative that follows two unnamed black protagonists, one a dancer, one a photographer. The story follows their relationship as it turns from a friendship to a romantic relationship, and the troubles that come with embarking on a new romantic relationship. Although told in the 2nd person, we mainly focus on the guy and his struggle of opening up in this new relationship, and you get the feeling he constantly has terror swimming around in his head. This terror is a combination of being in a Black body and living in London, police brutality, mental health issues and the general trauma of life that fuse together to weigh him down. The story is somewhat heart-breaking to witness because you realise it’s not a lack of love in this relationship, instead, it’s a communication issue, our male protagonist is grappling with his masculinity and what society has taught him about himself and the result is he doesn’t know how to express his feelings. This is particularly heartbreaking when those feelings are those of fear, vulnerability and insecurity.

The writing in this is just masterfully crafted, such great care has been taken to craft each sentence and as a result, this is a work of art. There are so many beautiful lines you can quote from this. That said, I think the poetic like prose is what may put other people off the book, whilst I think there is so much substance to this book, I think most people may be deterred by the lyrical writing and therefore think it lacks substance. I absolutely loved it and so it’s not a problem for me, but at times I did feel like a lot and so, that’s why it’s not a full 5 stars for me.

This was an emotional and powerful story, yet it also feels tender because of how it shows that these larger societal issues (racism, microaggression etc) trickle down and affect the individual’s ability to explore love, enjoy relationships and express feelings. I can’t believe this is a debut, I will definitely be purchasing this at some point and cannot wait to re-read it!

I have also reviewed this book on my YouTube channel here: https://bit.ly/2Y5fBCX the review starts at 13:04 and I'm happy for this to be shared if needed to promote the title.

Open Water follows two young people as they fall in love - from the beginning of the journey to the rocky, potential end of it. Told in second person, we follow from the male perspective as he explains what it's like to find your perfect match, to be Black and British, to be British and Ghanaian, to love the soul of a person while being scared for your own.

"You know to love is to be a whole, partial, a joint, a fracture, a heart, a bone. It is to bleed and heal. It is to be in the world, honest. It is to place someone next to your beating heart, in the absolute darkness of your inner, and trust they will hold you close. To love is to trust, to trust is to have faith. How else are you meant to love?"

This book is utter poetry, and I loved every second of it. It kept stunning me over, and over again with gorgeous descriptions of that perfect, thrilling feeling of falling in love with someone - the heady feeling of becoming obsessed about what makes a person who they are, of wanting to open your mouth and drink every bit of them up so you can understand their soul and they yours.

The love in this book is pure, and powerful, and not completely perfect. Perfect in its imperfections but what I loved the most was this precious glimpse into the mind and life of a young Black man, struggling with his pride in who he was, and where he came from but also the fear for his life every time he walked out the door.

I think I have read books from BIPOC characters or authors mostly focused on the female perspective which I love, but I really felt it special to see the character's joys and fears spilled out on the pages in this one. His utter rage at what he is made to feel like, how he is treated. He is a gentle, creative soul yet because of the colour of his skin, is often made to feel like a criminal because of the authorities. And if it's not the police he's afraid of, he also has to be way of knife crime and gang crime in London, issues which also disproportionately affect young Black men.

The character's struggle to be vulnerable; to not show his fears to the girl who loves him most is so hard to read, and the fight to understand between the two of them as well is tough. The silent battle to have someone know what you are going through without having to say it and lay all your vulnerabilities on the table. To not be the "strong, Black man" society assumes you to be.

"You don't know why you're crying. Sometimes, love aches. You're not sad but bowled over."

The only reason why I didn't give this the full 5 stars as I felt at times the character would wander off with his thoughts, and my own mind would stray a bit - not fully committed to the page. But the beauty of this book struck me again, and again and I can't recommend it enough!

The synopsis of this book sounded really promising and the kind of story I enjoy reading with many interesting and topical themes. Unfortunately the book did not work for me, however I am conscious of the fact that the reasons why are mainly due to my preferences as a reader rather than a reflection on the book.

Open Water follows two young adults, the male character is a photographer and the female character is a dancer. They meet when a friend of the male character starts dating the female character and slowly a friendship and romance develops between the two protagonists. The story is told from the perspective of the male character using second-person narration. This was my first issue with the book as I do not like second-person narration. I understand that for some it is a way of placing the reader in the shoes of the protagonist but, combined with the way both lead characters remain nameless, I found this narration really distancing and I didn't feel like I got to know either of them.

I also wasn't very keen on the style of writing. There were some lines that were very beautiful and touched on something profound, but to me it read like a summary of a full novel rather than giving me the description and detail I was craving to bring the story to life.

Having said this, the book brought in many important themes such as race, fear, masculinity, identity, privilege and love which were handled really well and woven seamlessly into the plot. In this sense there is a lot that can be taken from this book but it was the style of storytelling that let the book down for me.

Thank you to Netgalley and Penguin UK for the ARC.

I loved this book - I haven't read something that engages your senses so readily and easily in a very long time. A really beautifully written and heartfelt debut.

'The two of you, like headphone wires tangling, caught up in this something. A happy accident. A messy miracle.'

In OPEN WATER, two young people meet at a pub in South East London. Both are Black British, both won scholarships to private schools where they struggled to belong, both are now artists - he a photographer, she a dancer - trying to make their mark in a city that by turns celebrates and rejects them. Tentatively, tenderly, they fall in love. But two people who seem destined to be together can still be torn apart by fear and violence.

I don't know how people can write like this - this soulful, aching prose. Wow. Nelson renders his images in intense poetic detail, using language to form evocative vignettes which mirror the author's talent for photography. The novel's references to music, theatre, film and London itself (especially South London) made me double-take a few times while reading to make sure I didn't have my own diary in my hands. The authenticity here is unparalleled and I don't think I'll ever get over seeing my London on the page. This feels like a particular summer I had in my twenties - all heat and motives and vibes.

The novel explores the vulnerability not only of daring to fall in love but also of life as a Black man in Britain. Here, the protagonist's interactions with grief and the police contextualise the idea of what it can mean to love a Black man. A tender depiction of Black masculinity and mental health, it's a vivid portrayal of how we carry our experiences with us, how they mark and reshape our futures.

OPEN WATER is written in the 2nd person, which I found unsettling at first, to occupy the space of the "you" in a story that is so intimate and personal. Beyond the author encouraging the reader to empathise with his protagonist, it feels as though he's talking and writing back to himself and the deliberate repetition throughout is a confrontation of one's own memories - the act of remembering lives vividly through the narrative structure of the novel.

This is a love song.

I have to admit that when I first started Open Water, I worried that I wasn’t going to get on with it and I can attribute that entirely to the fact that it is written in second person. I cannot think of another book I have read which uses this narrative style. It was jarring and I felt like I was struggling to get into the plot because I was having to adjust to something unfamiliar.

I had a stern word with myself and persevered; I’m an English Lit graduate, for goodness sake, a little second person shouldn’t be enough to put me off! And thank goodness I did, because this stunning debut turned out to be one of my favourite reads of 2020. In fact, I think the second person narration is a large part of this novel’s genius.

Yes, Open Water is a love story. But, in my opinion, it’s mostly an exploration of identity. It’s about perception and prejudice, seeing and being seen. The protagonist is a young black man, a photographer, living in London, and this novel explores all facets of his life, the highs and the lows.

When getting to know the woman he falls in love with, they have a conversation about his profession. He says, ‘I know I’m a photographer, but if someone else says I’m that, it changes things because what they think about me isn’t what I think about me.’

She questions, ‘…why does what someone else thinks about you change what you think about you?’ To which he replies, ‘It shouldn’t… You can’t live in a vacuum. And when you let people in and you make yourself vulnerable, they’re able to have an effect on you.’

I think the second person narration is clever on a couple of levels. Firstly, it immediately places the reader firmly in the protagonist’s shoes. You are simultaneously placed within the novel, practically being told what to pay attention to and what to feel, and without the novel, the unusual style also reinforcing your position as a reader, a mere observer. This was especially as a white woman, the discomfort of the second person narration serving as a stark reminder of my white privilege.

Secondly, the narrator using second person rather than first seems like an act of self-reflection, like the narrator is observing himself rather than just living the story. It’s all written in present tense, so it’s not retrospective. Thus, the second person is paradoxically less intimate than first person but also more intimate. Not only because the narrator has created this space, this inference of self-reflection, but because placing someone directly in your shoes with they use of ‘you’, rather than ‘I’, is the ultimate way to ‘let people in’, a huge act of vulnerability.

I think this paradoxical intimacy is particularly poignant when you consider it alongside the way love is described in the novel:

‘You know that to love is both to swim and to drown. You know to love is to be whole, partial, a joint, a fracture, a heart, a bone. It is to bleed and heal. It is to be in the world, honest. It is to place someone next to your beating heart, in the absolute darkness of your inner, and trust they will hold you close. To love is to trust, to trust is to have faith. How else are you meant to love?’
(Please, that is so beautiful, it makes me want to weep.)

So, love is contradiction after contradiction, then, and the protagonist learns, and the novel concludes, that so is existence:

‘You want to tell her that you have stopped trying to forget that feeling, that anger, that ugly, and instead have accepted it as part of you, along with your joy, your beauty, your light. Multiple truths do exist, and you do not have to be the sum of your traumas.’

This anger and trauma stems from the suffering endured by black people at the hands of systemic racism – microaggressions, police-brutality and murder. This suffering only becomes more blatant to the protagonist in love:

‘You would soon learn that love made you worry, but it also made you beautiful. Love made you Black, as in, you were most coloured when in her presence.’

To be truly seen, as more than just a black body, by this woman who loves him and mirrors him in so many ways, makes it all the more obvious when the opposite is true, like in this one such instance:

‘Walking towards the cinema, you pass a police van. They aren’t questioning you or her but glance in your direction. With this act, they confirm what you already know: that your bodies are not your own.’

(As a side note – I read this alongside Between the World and Me by Ta-Nahesi Coates and the texts really complimented each other.)

This is an honest, moving and beautifully executed exploration of love, race, masculinity, trauma and self. To cover so much, so well, in just 145 is no mean feat. To do it with such finesse, is incredible.

It’s rare that I’m lost for words but this book honestly took my breath away...

It is a story of a growing love between two young people. It reflects on love, and all it creates...the fear and vulnerability...but also the empowerment, comfort, safety and calm that makes it so worthwhile.

Open Water explores what it means to be seen, and seen as more than a black body. It is an insightful, and frightening look at the prejudice still so prevalent in our world.

The writing is exquisite...it’s poetic, lyrical, and expressive. It evokes feeling and emotion, and touches your soul.

I’ve never read a book using second person narrative, but the use of ‘you’ is powerful. I didn’t learn the name of the main protagonist but I didn’t need to, in order to ‘see’ him.

This is perhaps the most exciting debut I’ve had the pleasure to read, and I just can’t do this masterpiece justice!!

Thank you so much to Viking, Penguin Random House, and to Netgalley for sending me advanced proofs of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Thanks to NetGalley and The Publisher for this eARC in exchange for an honest review

4.5 stars rounded up.

I loved this. This book touched me deep in my soul. This book described that pure unconditional love that we all seek to find. I felt every emotion and all the vulnerability expressed with what seemed like the most carefully selected of words, but which flowed effortlessly off the page, into the deepest recesses of my being. This was special. That second person point of view was fully captivating and immersive. A short book that could easily be devoured in one sitting. However, take time to savour this one, you won't regret it.