Book Review: Sunburn

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ID: cozy room with a bookshelf and fairy lights.

The deadlines are piling up, the days feel like you blink and it’s dark, and it becomes increasingly difficult to muster up the energy to do anything at all, least of all make time to read a book. Sadly, this is November at university. If you’re anything like me, then, you are dreaming of the books you devoured over the past summer, and wondering what you might be able to get lost in over the winter break. Luckily, the ever-expanding catalogue of queer literature seems to just get better and better, and I have the perfect book for you to escape into as you shiver in your poorly-heated student flat: Sunburn.

Nominated for various prizes such as the Nero Book Award for Debut Fiction and the British Book Award for Discover, Chloe Michelle Howarth’s Sunburn (2023) is a stunning new addition to the coming-of-age genre. The novel follows the tragic clash between Lucy’s budding understanding of her queerness and her normative, rural upbringing. Lucy is a teenager growing up in a small village in Ireland, but through her obsessive, life-altering infatuation with a close friend, it is not unfounded to say that she is also all of us. Through careful characterisation, Howarth puts into words the indescribable feeling of first sapphic love — at times overwhelmed by adolescent angst, yet soul-crushingly relatable.

ID: cover of Sunburn, with two women sunbathing.
Though this is certainly not the first novel which explores the pain of discovering oneself within an unsupportive society, Howarth’s style is refreshingly, though violently, sincere. Despite being set over two decades before its publication, the clarity of the narrative voice creates an intimate connection with the reader, almost as if to say: This could be you. For many queer readers, Lucy is you. For others, Lucy becomes a crucial reminder of who the queer community is fighting for when we speak of unconditional love and acceptance.

Howarth harnesses the heartbreaking humanity of teenage pain in a tone reminiscent of Sally Rooney’s Normal People to agonizing effect. Also like Rooney, Howarth touches upon the crucial theme of class, though not always in great depth. Nevertheless, with this debut, the Irish writer demonstrates her artistic capacity, decidedly positioning herself as a powerful new voice in contemporary literature.

Sunburn is an excellent book, a read so captivating that it might just kickstart your passion for reading again. If not, at least it can be a great addition to your Goodreads (time is ticking for those 2024 reading challenges!). Most importantly though, it is a beautiful queer story, and we can never have enough of those.

By Blanca (she/her)