Open, Heaven, Sean Hewitt
Open, Heaven is a stunningly lyrical debut novel by the Irish poet Seán Hewitt and is reminiscent of Douglas Stuart in its intense exploration of queer sexuality and the coming-of-age experience. Set in a remote village and focusing on a sixteen-year-old boy, James, and the boy he meets that year, this novel is intensely introspective and poetic. Yearning is at the very heart of Open, Heaven, with James fantasising about a reality in which his desire for Luke could be reciprocated, and his sexuality could be explored, while isolating himself from his family.
Hewitt’s writing is intensely vivid, with every aspect of the setting, the community, and James’s emotions being described in the closest detail. This book is only 200 pages long, and the plot is fuelled by contemplation and self-observation rather than any concretely progressing plotline. It carries a lot of emotion in its quietness, brought to life with the backdrop of this stationary, rural village. It is split up by the seasons, time constantly passing, although the idyllic village is isolated and never changing. You can tell this novel was written by a poet with its rich prose that creates a vulnerable reading experience.
Open, Heaven is incredibly tender and melancholic, with a sense of longing that refuses to cease, but it has a calm gentleness to it too. It is about the desire to be wanted, craving the feeling of being needed – about being so close to bliss, but often only in our imaginations. This novel is obsessed with time and the past, but never able to return to it. I would’ve liked more of an exploration of Luke in order to understand their connection more strongly, as I felt some distance from them both, but this novel does encapsulate so much. It is one to read slowly and savour.
For fans of incredibly descriptive writing, queer yearning, and bittersweet heartache, Open, Heaven is for you.
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