Open, Heaven

The superb first novel from British and Irish poet Hewitt (after the collection Rapture’s Road) is a wistful account of a gay teen’s unrequited first love. In 2002, sensitive James is attracted to Luke, a troubled young man temporarily staying with his aunt and uncle in rural Thornmere, England (“He must need someone, and didn’t I need someone, too?” James wonders). His desire for Luke is as strong as his fear of rejection, and he cherishes the time they spend together, exploring a nearby cave, drinking brandy from Luke’s flask, and going to a school disco party, where Luke attracts attention from several girls. Luke’s cocky and confident demeanor rubs off on James, prompting him to give Luke a porn magazine, and he’s thrilled to watch Luke gaze at the pictures of naked women (“I knew that the imagination was more pliable, more open to change, than real life”). But after James sees Luke with one of the girls from the party, he’s filled with a “cold panic” at his failure to keep Luke to himself. James potently expresses the charge he feels around Luke (“Being with him was the one point in my life when I remembered feeling electrically alive”), and Hewitt manages to convey both the allure and the peril of that spark (“I wanted to be lost in him,” James thinks, “and the hope was a torture to me”). Anchored by a grounded sense of place and the universal theme of adolescent longing, Hewitt’s narrative strikes a resonant chord. It’s a stunner. Agent: Adam Eaglin, Cheney Agency. (Apr.)