Small Worlds: Book Review

A book review of Caleb Azumah Nelson's 'Small Worlds'

Photo by Mquzama

We know death in it’s multitudes but we are all very serious about being alive. And since one thing that can solve most of our problems is dancing, we turn our mourning into movement - pg. 3

Saying Stephen, a young Ghanaian Londoner, loves music is an understatement. Whether it’s dancing, playing his trumpet, mixing records, or listening to classics on loop, he loves it all! Music is how he bonds with his friends, how he has expressed feelings language couldn’t contain- it is how he relates with the world. So what happens when a rejection from music school threatens this small world that has cushioned him all along? Or when his father’s preferred path, Business School, is worse than he initially thought? 

Masterfully written in Nelson’s usual lyrical style, Small Worlds is a moving coming-of-age story of Stephen, who is trying to balance family and societal pressures while forging a life for himself. To be honest, going into the book, I was worried I would find the writing as dense as the one in his debut novel, Open Water. By the end of the first chapter, I knew my fear were pretty unfounded, Nelson maintained the same elegant writing that always makes me run out of highlighters, while also making it easy to break through the text.

In Small Worlds, he offers a poignant depiction of masculinity and fatherhood. Unlike most authors’ writing of (black) male characters, he captures masculinity without clinging to calcified tropes, painting not just men’s emotions but how these coalesce into hope, grief, and silence. This is best seen in the relationship between Stephen and his father, Eric. While Eric evidently adores and cares for his children,  he maintains an emotional distance from them. A wall. The type that subtly tells everyone ‘I am too busy being a man to show vulnerability or compassion’. Typical of an African father. This is felt acutely when Stephen is grappling with career, relationship and general life issues adulthood brings and his father not only shuts him out but actively belittles his ambitions. 

I want the freedom to walk over to him, to pull him into an embrace, to be held; I want to feel the heat of his love against mine, to know if he really did love me. But more, I need more… I want to ask him what he dreamed of, where he went to find freedom, do you know this feeling, this sadness on my shoulders. - pg. 106

The beauty of this is that Nelson does not stop here, he does not only show Eric’s failure to sympathise with his son but also walks us through his deep-seated worries. The losses that congealed his emotions, and the aspirations that migration drained out of him. It is fascinating to see that, upon moving to London, his father wanted to be a DJ, but after facing significant obstacles even to the point of eviction, he had to settle for a “real job”.

After reading the book, one wonders whether his apprehension towards his son’s desire to become a musician, was to protect him from the disappointment he faced? Because in his small world, the world he never lets himself get vulnerable enough to share, music is how he almost lost it all. 

This father-son relationship contrasts sharply with what Stephen has with his older brother, Ray. In the beginning of the book, you are introduced to Raymond, the older fun-loving brother who is trying to figure out his life while Stephen seems to have his own life in order right before his high school graduation. Stephen is always there encouraging his brother through this, and when the tide changes and it is Stephen who needs a helping hand, Ray does the same. Between them, they show the vulnerability and understanding that their father masks in his hostile demeanor, and unlike most male friendships, jokes, and banter are not used to deflect acknowledging their love for each other but rather their conversations embody this care they have for each other. Reading this, I realised that If I ever had to create a big brother, he would probably be a lot like Ray (It also helps that he was obsessed with football!)

As someone who is rekindling their faith, I loved how the author illustrated the community, peace, and hope that comes from church spaces. How even for those whose faith is not as tethered as it earlier was, the church is still a community one can lean on. A place where “you can feel safe asking for anything” and “you believe more might be possible”. Despite this, I would have loved it if he explored Stephen’s religion further. After finishing the book, it was still unclear to me how he lost his faith. Was it an instance? Did it all stop making sense? Was it inconsistent with the man he wanted to become? I am so curious.

The only frustrating part about this book was that it had a lot of music references. Songs and artists I have never heard of, to be honest. Of course, this is very much a me-problem. Because my music taste rarely goes beyond the late 2000s, most of this discussion passed me by. On the contrary, I think the music nerds will absolutely enjoy this!

Overall, the book is a captivating tale exploring the dreams and relationships lost in our journeys to carve out our small worlds, as well as the connections and love that blossom along the way.