Much like the highly praised Open Water, Caleb Azumah Nelson's second novel is highly lyrical and poetically ambitious: Rendered in an intense, dramatic voice, we accompany our narrator and protagonist Stephen during three summers after his high school graduation, so in a transitory phase of life. And this motif of transit(ion) is central, as we learn about the migration history of Stephen's parents and his own journey to Ghana, his brother's path to becoming a father, and Stephen's dream of striking a romantic relationship with his friend Del and becoming a musician. All narrative strands of this coming-of-age novel relate to familial trauma and experiences of racism, particularly in Great Britain.

Music is important on the plot level: Not only because Stephen and Del are musicians and music is important for just about every character, Nelson also constantly gives the events depicted a soundtrack by referring to musicians and records. The text is also structured by repeating certain sentences like a chorus. Thus, the language picks up a rhythm that is then again reflected in the idea that dancing is the only thing that can solve Stephen's problems, which sounds poetic, but is of course nonsense: Issues like police brutality, the reverberations of the slave trade, youthful disorientation and other topics the text mentions will not be danced away anytime soon. What is meant here is that Stephen shuts himself away in his own small world, a world he intends to protect, where he knows himself in music.

Now that could make for interesting concept: A young protagonist torn between his own world - a relatable position, as we all try to build a place where we can thrive with the ones we love and feel ourselves - and the world around him. But nothing here is worked through in a stringent manner, it's a text heavily reliant on moody writing and heavy-handed plot points that treat small and big tragedies alike. Let's take Stephen's attempt to go to university: He feels lonely and out of place, and it's depicted like a Shakespearean plight. So the reader wonders: Why doesn't he act and try to make friends? Why the self-pity? And plot holes abound: When Stephen is so passionate about music, why do we hardly hear that he plays the trumpet, that he works towards performing, that he hangs out with bands, etc.?

There are some really heavy parts about intergenerational trauma, marginalization, and migration in here, but when they appear at the same level of emotional intensity as a young man who is unable to tell a girl that he likes her, it takes away from the depth of the story as a whole. Stephen, who as a second-generation immigrant is confronted with all kinds of intercultural challenges, sometimes seems like a teenager when he, who has the time and space to explore his place in the world, sounds overly dramatic about minutiae. I see that Nelson intended to show Stephen's perspective as a young person who tries to find their place in the world as a Black man in London, but the result does not quite come together: Too often, the world happens to Stephen although he would have agency, but he remains passive, and it's unclear why.

So unfortunately, I have to admit that during large parts of this very wordy text, I was rather bored, because nothing much happens, and nothing surprising happens either. I felt crushed by the over-the-top poetic language and wished for more depth: Just because the music is loud, doesn't mean it's automatically deep or particularly good.