You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Scan barcode
A review by ghada_mohammed
Open Water by Caleb Azumah Nelson
5.0
4.5
Multiple truths do exist, and you do not have to be the sum of your traumas.
This is a once-in-a-million book and I will gladly explain:
It read like poetry from begining to end; the bitterness, the joy, the pain, the love, the fear, the loneliness...everything was almost too real. The rawness of the narrative and the honesty of the protagonist's feelings were tangible all the way through and at times they were almost unbearable. It was like listening to someone reveal a little too much about themselves without the subsequent awkwardness that would inevitably follow. I daresay that was why the author did not give him a name; it was even easier to put myself in his place. I was initially apprehensive of the second person narrative, especially coupled with the romance tag, but now I think it was all for the best; it was all to make it more intimate because you need be as close as you can when the show is this good.
There was racism, there was struggle, and there was the bitter loneliness of being young and adrift, but personally, I think the prevalent theme was love (or lack thereof when it should be there). Be it romantic, platonic, unconditional, or whatever, to me, Open Water is about love. It was repeatedly depicted in the protagonist's feelings for The Woman:
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.
It stood alone as an independent entity:
...if flexing is being able to say the most in the fewest number of words, is there a greater flex than love? Nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. A direct gaze. The gaze requires no words at all; it is an honest meeting.
It was prominent in his struggle with an emotionally immature father who preached toxic masculinity when his son only needed his love:
“You don’t always like those you love unconditionally.”
That. That line. Albeit simple, it shook me deeply. I think I spent a moment too long rereading it over and over again. The protagonist is not the only one. Toxic masculinity had always been a plague, but it undeniably affected and continues to affect young Black men more than the rest of us. That was why I was so proud when Nelson let his protagonist openly cry whenever life was just too overwhelming. Those tears were a revolution in their own right. He cried when loneliness suffocated him, he cried when a piece of art hit too deep, he cried when he saw what the brothers who looked like him suffered what they suffered and he was just as helpless to save them as he was to save himself.
...it’s not a sudden loss of rights that enables a pair of men to destroy another’s body on suspicion, no, it’s not sudden; the perception of a young Black male existed long before this moment, before he fit a description
Be it in writing, message, or concept, Open Water was a beautiful book, one hell of a debut, and 100% reread material. I cannot recommend it harder.
Multiple truths do exist, and you do not have to be the sum of your traumas.
This is a once-in-a-million book and I will gladly explain:
It read like poetry from begining to end; the bitterness, the joy, the pain, the love, the fear, the loneliness...everything was almost too real. The rawness of the narrative and the honesty of the protagonist's feelings were tangible all the way through and at times they were almost unbearable. It was like listening to someone reveal a little too much about themselves without the subsequent awkwardness that would inevitably follow. I daresay that was why the author did not give him a name; it was even easier to put myself in his place. I was initially apprehensive of the second person narrative, especially coupled with the romance tag, but now I think it was all for the best; it was all to make it more intimate because you need be as close as you can when the show is this good.
There was racism, there was struggle, and there was the bitter loneliness of being young and adrift, but personally, I think the prevalent theme was love (or lack thereof when it should be there). Be it romantic, platonic, unconditional, or whatever, to me, Open Water is about love. It was repeatedly depicted in the protagonist's feelings for The Woman:
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.
It stood alone as an independent entity:
...if flexing is being able to say the most in the fewest number of words, is there a greater flex than love? Nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. A direct gaze. The gaze requires no words at all; it is an honest meeting.
It was prominent in his struggle with an emotionally immature father who preached toxic masculinity when his son only needed his love:
“You don’t always like those you love unconditionally.”
That. That line. Albeit simple, it shook me deeply. I think I spent a moment too long rereading it over and over again. The protagonist is not the only one. Toxic masculinity had always been a plague, but it undeniably affected and continues to affect young Black men more than the rest of us. That was why I was so proud when Nelson let his protagonist openly cry whenever life was just too overwhelming. Those tears were a revolution in their own right. He cried when loneliness suffocated him, he cried when a piece of art hit too deep, he cried when he saw what the brothers who looked like him suffered what they suffered and he was just as helpless to save them as he was to save himself.
...it’s not a sudden loss of rights that enables a pair of men to destroy another’s body on suspicion, no, it’s not sudden; the perception of a young Black male existed long before this moment, before he fit a description
Be it in writing, message, or concept, Open Water was a beautiful book, one hell of a debut, and 100% reread material. I cannot recommend it harder.