Until today, I'd never even read a graphic novel, let alone a piece of queer fiction. Heartstopper: Volume One by Alice Oseman has therefore taken me out of my comfort zone into two unfamiliar areas of literature at once, and I started it without knowing quite how I'd respond to either.
In my reading life up until now, I'm accustomed to prose doing most of the work. I expect to spend time inside a character’s thoughts, listening to the explanations they offer themselves and noticing the contradictions between what they think, say and do. A graphic novel asks the reader to pay attention differently. Silence becomes important, the space between panels holds more weight than I'd realised. A hand placed fractionally too close to another can carry the weight of an entire paragraph.
Adjusting to that form took me a little time, but Alice Oseman made the transition remarkably easy. Nick Nelson and Charlie Spring are immediately likeable, their developing friendship is genuinely lovely, and the nervous uncertainty of first love is captured through small gestures that feel completely disproportionate only until we remember what it was like to experience them ourselves.
Oseman is particularly good at capturing the private drama of adolescent communication.
A text message is written, reconsidered and deleted. A heart appears at the end of a conversation and is immediately subjected to intense analysis. One boy notices how often the other smiles, and an invitation to meet a dog acquires all the emotional importance of a formal declaration.
Nick and Charlie practise rugby, play video games, wrestle on the floor and run outside when it starts snowing. Nothing especially dramatic needs to happen during these scenes because the emotional movement is taking place underneath them. Friendship is gradually becoming attraction, although neither boy is confident enough to admit it.
This was where I began to understand what the graphic format does that prose might not accomplish quite as naturally. Oseman doesn't need to explain every shift in feeling. A blush, an uncertain glance or a hand that almost reaches for another communicates it instead.
The recurring leaves and blossoms are especially effective. They appear when something changes between Nick and Charlie, giving visible form to emotions they can't yet articulate. As winter moves towards spring, their relationship also begins to emerge from uncertainty into something warmer and more hopeful.
Nick and Charlie are repeatedly misunderstood because the people around them believe sexuality should be visible.
Nick plays rugby, calls his friends “mate” and occupies a conventionally masculine social world. Charlie and Tao consequently assume that he must be straight. Nick’s teammates make the opposite assumption about Charlie, struggling to reconcile an openly gay and physically slight boy with someone who can outrun most of the school.
Both boys are being reduced to stereotypes.
Charlie can be gay, academic, musical and athletic. Nick can be physically strong, popular, gentle and uncertain about whether he's attracted to boys, girls or both. Neither of them can be understood from his appearance or interests.
Oseman handles this with a relatively soft touch. Miss Singh directly reminds the rugby players that they can't identify someone’s sexuality simply by looking at them, but much of the point is made through Nick and Charlie simply refusing to fit the roles given to them.
Tao complicates this further by accepting Charlie’s sexuality without question but can't imagine that someone like Nick might be anything other than straight. His concern for Charlie is genuine, although it's mixed with protectiveness, prejudice and maybe a little jealousy as Nick begins taking up more of Charlie’s time.
I would have liked Tao to be developed beyond that role. His friendship with Charlie has the beginnings of something more layered, but in this volume he appears mainly to express the doubts Charlie's carrying already.
Nick and Charlie are very easy to care about. Their friendship develops through ordinary companionship rather than instant declarations, and Oseman gives their affection an appealing gentleness.
However, the larger narrative is unfortunately less developed.
The romantic outcome is visible fairly early because Nick’s expressions and behaviour reveal his feelings long before he understands them. The reader isn't really wondering whether Nick likes Charlie. We're left waiting for Nick to recognise what we've already been shown.
Most of the secondary characters remain tied to the requirements of that central romance. Tao expresses doubt, Tori offers quiet support, Tara disproves the assumption that Nick has to be interested in her, and Ben represents secrecy and coercion. The rugby players provide friendship or homophobic pressure when the plot dictates it.
They do perform those roles effectively, but I finished the volume without feeling that I knew much about them as individuals.
The ending adds to that sense of incompleteness. Nick and Charlie finally acknowledge their attraction and share their first kiss, but Nick becomes overwhelmed and leaves when someone calls for him, with Charlie immediately assuming he's ruined everything, and that's where the book ends.
It's definitely an effective way to make the next volume difficult to resist. But, as the conclusion to a physical book, it feels like an interruption rather than a resolution. I'd reached a stopping point in an ongoing serial rather than the end of a complete narrative arc.
My first graphic novel needed me to surrender some familiar reading habits. I had to stop waiting for prose to explain everything and begin noticing what Oseman was doing with silence, spacing, movement and touch.
The result was a tender introduction to Nick and Charlie. Their relationship is sweet without becoming saccharine, and their conversations retain the awkwardness of teenagers who don't yet have the language or the confidence to say exactly what they mean.
But I still did want more: more depth from the secondary characters, more attention to the aftermath of Charlie’s experience with Ben and a stronger sense that this volume could stand independently from the series surrounding it. The emotional observations are often perceptive, but they sit within a very slight and predictable narrative.
Still, I finished with affection for both boys and considerable curiosity about what happens next. Nick has barely begun to understand his sexuality, Charlie’s confidence is still fragile and their first kiss has created far more uncertainty than it resolved.
I'm very much looking forward to the next book in the series. For a book that introduced me to both graphic novels and LGBTQIA+ fiction, this feels like a worthwhile beginning.
🌈 Read this if you enjoy tender LGBTQIA+ coming-of-age stories
🏫 A friendship beginning between two boys at school
💬 First crushes, uncertain feelings and late-night messages
🏉 Challenging assumptions about masculinity and sexuality
🍂 Gentle illustrations capturing everything left unsaid
🫶 Friendship, identity and the vulnerability of first love
⚠️ Contains bullying, homophobia, emotional abuse and a non-consensual kiss
Book Details
Heartstopper Volume 1 by Alice Oseman
Paperback ISBN
978-1444951387 — Hodder Children’s Books trade paperback edition published in Australia on 12 February 2019.
Hardcover ISBN
978-1444968934 — Hodder Children’s Books special-edition hardcover published on 2 February 2023.
eBook ISBN
978-1444951394 — Hodder Children’s Books digital eBook edition published on 7 February 2019.
Audiobook ISBN
N/A — no audiobook edition is currently listed because Heartstopper: Volume One is a visually driven graphic novel.
Genre
Graphic Novel; Young Adult Fiction; LGBTQIA+ Fiction; Contemporary Fiction; Romance; Coming-of-Age Fiction; School Fiction
Subgenre
LGBTQIA+ Graphic Novel; Queer Romance; Gay Coming-of-Age Fiction; First-Love Fiction; British School Fiction; Illustrated Fiction; Webcomic Adaptation; Young Adult Contemporary Romance
Tropes / Literary Threads
Friends becoming something more; openly gay boy falling for a seemingly straight boy; popular rugby player questioning his sexuality; opposites attract; first crush; slow-burn romance; friendship before love; secret relationship.
Publisher
Hachette Children’s Group under the Hodder Children’s Books imprint — the trade paperback and eBook editions were published in 2019, followed by the special-edition hardcover in 2023.
Series
Heartstopper — Volume One and the first book in Alice Oseman’s continuing graphic-novel series.
Formats Available
Trade Paperback; Special-Edition Hardcover; eBook; Kindle; EPUB; Online Webcomic.
Audiobook Narrator
N/A — no audiobook edition is currently available.
Audiobook Length
N/A — the story is presented visually as a graphic novel and has not been released as an audiobook.
Original Release Date
2018 — initially released as a limited crowdfunded print edition after beginning as an online webcomic; commercially published by Hachette Children’s Group on 7 February 2019.
Australian Release Date
12 February 2019 — Hodder Children’s Books trade paperback edition distributed by Hachette Australia.
Page Count
288 pages — Hodder Children’s Books trade paperback edition.
Where to Buy Heartstopper Volume 1 by Alice Oseman
📚 Amazon
Affiliate Disclosure
As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you purchase through my Amazon affiliate links, I may receive a small commission at no additional cost to you. I also encourage supporting Australian booksellers such as QBD Books, independent booksellers, and self-published authors whenever possible.
Danielle Robinson is a literary critic and writer whose
work explores literature through the
lens of atmosphere, memory, culture, and emotional experience. Holding a double degree in philosophy and theology, she combines academic insight with a deeply refined aesthetic sensibility shaped by more than three decades working across the creative industries as an internationally published, multi-award-winning makeup artist, fashion stylist, and interior stager.
She reads widely and rigorously, reading and reviewing more than 200 books each year as both an ARC reader and commissioned critic. Through Silk & Sentences, Danielle approaches literature as something immersive and lived with — not simply stories to consume, but works that shape the way we think, feel, and move through the world.
She writes from her semi-rural Queensland home, where she lives with Alex, her husband of 33 years, their dogs Oscar and Paige, and an ever-growing library of books.
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