Jenny Han’s It’s Not Summer Without You arrives as the emotionally complex second installment in her beloved Summer trilogy, following the success of The Summer I Turned Pretty. Where the first novel captured the intoxicating rush of first love and summer freedom, this sophomore effort delves into darker, more mature territory—exploring how grief can shatter even the most cherished traditions and relationships.
The novel picks up where readers’ hearts were left hanging: Susannah has died, the summer house faces potential sale, and the Fisher boys are fractured by loss. Han doesn’t shy away from the devastating reality that sometimes love isn’t enough to hold everything together. This willingness to confront uncomfortable truths elevates the sequel beyond typical young adult romance fare into something far more substantial and emotionally resonant.
When Paradise Becomes Purgatory
Han’s greatest strength lies in her ability to transform the idyllic Cousins Beach from a sanctuary into a site of profound loss. The beach house, once representing endless summers and possibility, now carries the weight of absence. Every room echoes with Susannah’s laughter, every corner holds memories that now feel more like ghosts than treasures.
Belly’s character development throughout this installment proves particularly compelling. Gone is the starry-eyed girl who counted days until summer; in her place stands someone grappling with the harsh reality that growing up means losing things you thought would last forever. Her drunk phone call to her mother and subsequent breakdown feel painfully authentic—capturing that desperate need to return to childhood safety when the adult world becomes overwhelming.
The author skillfully portrays how grief affects each character differently. Conrad retreats into self-destruction, abandoning his studies and disappearing from everyone who cares about him. Jeremiah tries to hold everything together while slowly crumbling inside. Mr. Fisher makes the practical but heartless decision to sell the house, unable to face the memories it contains. Each response feels genuine and human, avoiding the trap of making grief neat or easily resolved.
The Complex Dance of Broken Hearts
Han’s exploration of the love triangle between Belly, Conrad, and Jeremiah reaches new depths of complexity in this installment. The romantic tension isn’t just about choosing between two boys—it’s about navigating loyalty, family bonds, and the question of whether love can survive trauma.
The car scene between Belly and Jeremiah crackles with genuine emotion and desire, yet it’s immediately complicated by Conrad’s unexpected return and the weight of unspoken feelings. Han refuses to make this choice simple or clear-cut. Jeremiah represents stability, understanding, and someone who truly sees Belly for who she is. Conrad embodies passion, history, and the dangerous allure of trying to save someone who might not want to be saved.
The author’s handling of Conrad’s character deserves particular praise. Rather than making him simply brooding and mysterious, Han shows us a young man drowning in grief and guilt. His revelation about the infinity necklace and his nighttime confession to Belly reveal layers of vulnerability beneath his harsh exterior. Yet Han doesn’t excuse his behavior or suggest that love alone can fix someone’s pain.
Family Bonds and Found Family
One of the novel’s most powerful elements is its exploration of chosen family. The relationship between Belly’s mother, Laurel, and the Fisher family feels lived-in and authentic. When Laurel arrives to confront Mr. Fisher about selling the house, her fierce protection of “Beck’s boys” demonstrates how family extends beyond blood relations.
The scene where Laurel essentially wages war over breakfast to save the summer house stands as one of the novel’s most satisfying moments. Han shows us that sometimes the quiet, steady people possess the most devastating power when they finally decide to fight. Laurel’s sharp tongue and strategic mind prove that mothers can be warriors when their children—biological or chosen—are threatened.
The absence of Steven in this crucial moment feels significant rather than coincidental. His exclusion emphasizes how the dynamics have shifted, and how Belly is now operating in a more adult sphere of responsibility and decision-making.
Narrative Structure and Pacing Challenges
While Han’s emotional intelligence shines throughout the novel, the pacing occasionally falters under the weight of its own ambitions. The first half moves with deliberate slowness that effectively mirrors Belly’s depression but may test some readers’ patience. The middle section, with its road trip elements and motel room confessions, feels somewhat disconnected from the beach house setting that gives the series its heart.
The multiple perspective chapters featuring Jeremiah provide valuable insight into his character but sometimes interrupt the narrative flow. While these sections add depth to understanding his motivations and internal struggle, they can feel jarring when readers are deeply invested in Belly’s emotional journey.
Writing Style and Character Voice Evolution
Han’s prose has matured alongside her characters, incorporating more sophisticated emotional nuance while maintaining the accessible, conversational tone that made the first novel so engaging. Her ability to capture the specific pain of losing someone who represented security and unconditional love feels particularly authentic.
The dialogue throughout the novel rings true to teenage speech patterns without falling into stereotypical young adult fiction traps. Conversations feel natural and unforced, particularly during emotional confrontations where characters struggle to articulate feelings that are too big for words.
Belly’s narrative voice has evolved from the dreamy romanticism of the first book into something more grounded and complex. Her observations about grief, family, and love carry weight without becoming overly philosophical or losing their teenage authenticity.
Themes That Resonate Beyond Romance
While romance remains central to the story, Han weaves in themes that elevate the material beyond genre expectations:
- The permanence of loss: How death changes not just the present but the entire future you had imagined
- The complexity of healing: Showing that recovery isn’t linear and that people process trauma differently
- The evolution of family structures: How chosen family can be just as powerful as biological bonds
- The weight of expectations: Particularly around being strong for others when you’re struggling yourself
Minor Criticisms and Areas for Growth
The novel occasionally indulges in melodrama that feels slightly overwrought, particularly during some of the more intense emotional confrontations. Additionally, certain plot conveniences—like the perfect timing of various revelations—strain credibility slightly.
Some secondary characters, particularly Taylor, feel more like plot devices than fully realized people. While her function as Belly’s connection to normal teenage life serves the story, her personality lacks the depth of the main characters.
Position Within the Series Arc
It’s Not Summer Without You serves as a crucial bridge between the innocent romance of The Summer I Turned Pretty and the more mature resolution that comes in We’ll Always Have Summer. It’s the Empire Strikes Back of the trilogy—darker, more complex, but essential for earning the emotional payoff of the series conclusion.
The novel’s ending sets up fascinating questions about love, loyalty, and growing up that the final installment will need to address. Han has successfully raised the stakes beyond simple romantic choice to questions of fundamental identity and what it means to honor the past while building a future.
Recommended for Readers Who Enjoyed
- Sarah Dessen’s novels, particularly Someone Like You and The Truth About Forever
- Gayle Forman’s If I Stay series for its exploration of grief and difficult choices
- Rainbow Rowell’s Eleanor & Park for complex, realistic teenage relationships
- Deb Caletti’s young adult novels for their emotional depth and family dynamics
Final Thoughts: A Worthy and Necessary Sequel
It’s Not Summer Without You accomplishes the difficult task of deepening a beloved story without losing what made it special in the first place. Han has crafted a novel that honors the complexity of grief while maintaining hope for healing and love. While it may not capture the pure joy of its predecessor, it offers something equally valuable: a honest examination of how we survive loss and find ways to keep loving even when our hearts are broken.
This installment proves that Han is willing to challenge both her characters and her readers, refusing to offer easy answers or neat resolutions. It’s a bold choice that pays off, creating a story that lingers long after the final page and leaves readers genuinely invested in how these beloved characters will find their way forward.
