The Honest Gaze in Open Water: Symbol Analysis

What Is the Honest Gaze?

In Caleb Azumah Nelson’s Open Water, the honest gaze is a recurring motif of direct, unguarded eye contact—often exchanged in mirrors or through the lens of a camera—that forces both parties to confront the truth of their feelings. Unlike the casual glance or the objectifying stare, the honest gaze is an act of mutual vulnerability: it strips away pretense and demands that the person seen acknowledge what they are feeling, even when words fail. The novel repeatedly returns to this image, from the barbershop mirror of the prologue to the final photograph taken on a hill at blue hour, and in doing so it traces the arc of a relationship built on—and ultimately broken by—the difficulty of sustaining such honesty.

The motif is introduced explicitly in the prologue, when the narrator tells the woman, “when your gazes meet you cannot help but be honest.” He recalls James Baldwin’s desire to be “an honest man,” and frames the gaze as a form of speech that requires no words: “The gaze requires no words at all; it is an honest meeting.” This early definition establishes the gaze as a kind of truth-telling that bypasses language, which the novel repeatedly shows to be flimsy and inadequate.

The Gaze in the Mirror: Recognition and Vulnerability

The first instance of the honest gaze occurs in the barbershop, where the narrator watches the woman’s reflection in the mirror while the barber cuts her hair. The barber notices the exchange and pauses his clippers to announce, “You two are in something.” This moment is significant because the mirror allows both characters to see each other without direct confrontation—yet the gaze is still honest. The narrator loses her gaze for a moment and his breath quickens, as if the connection itself is physically destabilizing. Later, walking in the dark, he asks her not to look at him, because meeting her gaze forces him to admit what he wants: to love his best friend, to desire her, to be honest about his shame.

The mirror returns in Chapter 30, when the woman recalls the same barbershop scene from her perspective. She remembers the quiet that fell, the barber cutting the power of his clippers, and the way the gaze passed between them. She describes it as “the memory of being seen,” and notes that language fails them—yet the gaze itself was enough. This repetition shows that the honest gaze is not just a one-time event but a foundational memory that both characters carry, even after their relationship ends.

The Camera as an Extension of the Gaze

The narrator is a photographer, and the camera becomes a tool for extending the honest gaze. In Chapter 18, he reflects on the difference between being looked at and being seen: “It’s one thing to be looked at, and another to be seen.” He describes his work as an attempt to capture a moment of truth, asking his subjects to show him something different, not more or less. When he photographs the woman, he asks to see her, and the resulting image captures a glint in her eyes that he is always searching for before pressing the shutter. The camera allows him to hold the gaze without the immediate vulnerability of eye contact, but it still demands honesty from both parties.

In Chapter 10, during a photo shoot with the woman’s poet friend, the woman holds his gaze for “one, two, three” seconds, and he stops breathing. The camera judders as he is jolted back to the present. This moment shows that the honest gaze can occur even in a professional setting, breaking through the photographer’s usual role as an “objective observer.” The gaze is not something he can control; it interrupts his craft and forces him to feel.

The Gaze Turned Inward: Self-Confrontation

As the relationship deteriorates, the honest gaze turns inward. In Chapter 26, the narrator is booked for a portrait session and realizes that his subject—a man with bunched shoulders, a tense jaw, and folded hands—is a reflection of himself. He excuses himself to the bathroom, stands alone, and gazes in the mirror. There he admits that he has done a cowardly thing, hurt someone, and feels ashamed. The mirror, which earlier facilitated a mutual gaze between two people, now becomes a site of solitary self-confrontation. The honest gaze is no longer about seeing another person but about seeing oneself clearly, even when it is painful.

This inward turn culminates in Chapter 27, when the narrator, six months after the breakup, asks the woman: “will you look at me, while I tell you this story?” He is no longer avoiding her gaze but actively seeking it as a witness to his confession. The honest gaze becomes a request for accountability and forgiveness, a way of being seen in one’s full complexity—including the hurt one has caused.

The Gaze as a Request for Witnessing

The final chapter, narrated by the woman, brings the motif full circle. She has bought a 35mm camera, inspired by Roy DeCarava’s photograph Couple Dancing, 1956, which she sees as an image of trust and love. She photographs the narrator on a hill at blue hour, capturing “the honesty resting calmly on your features” and a tear making its way down his cheek. In this act, she becomes the one who sees him, reversing the earlier dynamic where he was the photographer. The honest gaze is no longer mutual but is offered by one person to another as a gift of recognition. She says, “If you look closely, you’ll see what she has always seen, what she always will: you.”

This final image suggests that the honest gaze persists even after the relationship has ended. It is not about romantic union but about the enduring act of seeing someone truly. The tear in the photograph is a testament to the pain and honesty that the gaze has always carried.

Study Questions

1. How does the honest gaze differ from being looked at, and why does the narrator fear it?

The honest gaze is a mutual exchange that forces vulnerability and truth, while being looked at is a one-way act of observation that can objectify. The narrator fears the honest gaze because it strips away his defenses; when he meets the woman’s eyes, he cannot hide his desire or his shame. He tells her not to look at him because he is not ready to admit what he feels.

1. What role does the mirror play in the novel’s treatment of the honest gaze?

The mirror appears in the barbershop and in the bathroom scene, serving as a space where the gaze can be exchanged or confronted without direct eye contact. In the barbershop, the mirror allows both characters to see each other’s reflection, creating a moment of mutual recognition. In the bathroom, the mirror forces the narrator to see himself honestly, leading to a breakdown. The mirror thus becomes a tool for both connection and self-confrontation.

1. How does photography complicate the honest gaze?

Photography allows the narrator to control the gaze—he can look through a viewfinder and remain an “objective observer.” However, the honest gaze breaks through this control, as when the woman holds his gaze during a shoot and he stops breathing. The camera also becomes a way to preserve honesty, as in the final photograph where the woman captures the narrator’s tear. Photography thus both mediates and intensifies the honest gaze.

1. Why does the woman’s act of photographing the narrator in Chapter 30 represent a shift in the motif?

Throughout the novel, the narrator is the photographer, the one who sees others. In Chapter 30, the woman takes up the camera and photographs him, reversing the roles. This shift shows that the honest gaze is not owned by one person but can be offered by anyone. Her photograph captures his honesty and his tear, suggesting that even after the relationship ends, she still sees him truly. It transforms the gaze from a mutual exchange into a gift of recognition.