Jenny Han’s It’s Not Summer Without You, the second installment in her beloved Summer trilogy, transforms the sun-soaked sanctuary of Cousins Beach into a landscape of grief and shattered dreams. Following the devastating conclusion of The Summer I Turned Pretty, Han proves that sophomore novels don’t have to suffer from middle-book syndrome by delivering a story that’s both emotionally brutal and breathtakingly beautiful.
Where the first novel introduced us to the intoxicating world of summer romance and coming-of-age awakening, this sequel plunges us into the darker waters of loss, responsibility, and the painful realization that growing up sometimes means watching everything you love slip away. Han doesn’t just continue Belly’s story—she completely reconstructs it, forcing both her protagonist and readers to confront the harsh reality that some summers truly are the last.
The Weight of Unfinished Conversations
The novel opens two months after Susannah’s death, with Belly trapped in a suffocating suburban existence that feels like wearing winter clothes in summer. Han’s decision to begin the story in this mundane setting is masterful—the contrast between the vibrant, hope-filled memories of Cousins Beach and Belly’s current gray reality creates an immediate emotional tension that propels the entire narrative.
Han excels at capturing the specific anguish of teenage grief, where the world expects you to bounce back while you’re still learning how to breathe without the person you’ve lost. Belly’s relationship with her mother becomes particularly complex as both women navigate their own grief while trying to honor Susannah’s memory. The scene where Belly drunk-dials her mother from the summer house is a perfect example of Han’s ability to blend humor with heartbreak, showing how grief makes us do things that are simultaneously self-destructive and desperately necessary.
The author’s exploration of how loss affects different people in different ways is nuanced and realistic. Conrad’s self-destructive academic abandonment feels authentic rather than melodramatic, while Jeremiah’s desperate attempt to hold everyone together reveals the exhausting burden of being the family’s emotional caretaker.
Conrad Fisher: The Beautiful Breakdown
Conrad’s characterization in this novel is perhaps Han’s greatest achievement in the series. Rather than making him a brooding romantic hero wallowing in attractive angst, she presents a young man genuinely falling apart under the weight of grief and survivor’s guilt. His decision to abandon summer school and barricade himself at the beach house isn’t romantic rebellion—it’s a psychological break that feels both inevitable and heartbreaking.
Han’s portrayal of Conrad’s relationship with his father adds layers of complexity that were only hinted at in the first novel. The revelation that Mr. Fisher wants to sell the house becomes more than just a plot device; it represents the final severing of ties to Susannah and everything she represented. Conrad’s fight to save the house isn’t just about preserving memories—it’s about proving his worth as a son and finding a way to honor his mother when he feels he failed her while she was alive.
The dynamic between Conrad and Belly throughout their reunion is electric with unresolved tension. Han skillfully navigates the delicate balance between their shared grief and their complicated romantic history, never allowing one to overshadow the other. Their midnight conversation at the motel, where Conrad finally admits “I didn’t mean it,” serves as both romantic resolution and emotional catharsis.
Jeremiah: The Heart in the Shadows
One of the novel’s greatest strengths lies in its development of Jeremiah from supporting character to emotional center. Han gives him depth and agency that extends far beyond his role as Conrad’s younger brother or Belly’s alternative romantic option. His decision to call Belly for help reveals both his maturity and his desperation—he understands that some problems are too big to solve alone.
Jeremiah’s attraction to Belly feels natural and earned rather than contrived for romantic triangle drama. Han writes their chemistry with a warmth and ease that contrasts beautifully with the intense, often painful connection between Belly and Conrad. The car scene where they finally kiss is tender and genuine, representing hope and healing rather than mere romantic conquest.
The author’s exploration of Jeremiah’s relationship with both his father and Conrad adds emotional weight to his character. His frustration with Conrad’s self-destruction and his complicated loyalty to their father creates internal conflict that feels authentic to his age and situation.
The Architecture of Memory
Han’s greatest technical achievement in this novel is her seamless integration of past and present through flashbacks and memory. Rather than feeling like exposition dumps, these glimpses into previous summers illuminate current emotional stakes while deepening our understanding of the characters’ relationships. The flashback to the disastrous prom night provides crucial context for Conrad’s current emotional state, while memories of Susannah’s illness help explain everyone’s different grieving processes.
The summer house itself becomes a character in the story, filled with ghosts and memories that both comfort and torment its inhabitants. Han’s description of the house during the party scene—filled with strangers who don’t understand its significance—perfectly captures the violation of having your sacred spaces invaded by people who can’t comprehend their meaning.
Flaws in Paradise
Despite its many strengths, the novel isn’t without weaknesses. The pacing occasionally feels uneven, particularly in the middle section where Belly’s moping threatens to overwhelm the narrative momentum. Some of Taylor’s dialogue feels forced and occasionally crosses the line from supportive friend to plot device designed to voice the reader’s frustrations with Belly’s choices.
The resolution, while emotionally satisfying, feels slightly rushed. Mr. Fisher’s capitulation to Laurel’s demands, while believable given their history, happens quickly enough to feel convenient rather than earned. Additionally, some of the secondary characters, particularly the college friends and party guests, feel more like plot functions than fully realized people.
The Emotional Ecosystem
What sets this novel apart from typical young adult romance is Han’s understanding that love doesn’t exist in a vacuum. The romantic relationships between the characters are inextricably linked to their family dynamics, their grief processes, and their individual growth. Belly’s journey isn’t just about choosing between two boys—it’s about learning to navigate love and loss simultaneously, understanding that growing up means accepting that some things end even when you’re not ready.
The novel’s treatment of adult relationships, particularly between Laurel and Mr. Fisher, adds depth and complexity to the story. Their confrontation scene demonstrates Han’s ability to write compelling adult characters who have their own agency and emotional stakes rather than existing solely to facilitate the teenage drama.
Where Love Meets Loss
It’s Not Summer Without You succeeds brilliantly as the middle volume of a trilogy because it deepens every relationship while advancing the overall narrative. It’s a bridge between the innocent romance of the first novel and the more mature resolution that will come in We’ll Always Have Summer. Han proves that she can write about loss with the same skill she brings to first love, creating a story that honors both the pain of grief and the persistence of hope.
The novel stands as a testament to Han’s growth as a writer, showing increased confidence in handling complex emotional situations and multiple character perspectives. It’s a worthy successor to The Summer I Turned Pretty and sets up the final volume with emotional stakes that feel both urgent and authentic.
Readers Who Will Treasure This Story
This novel will particularly resonate with readers who have experienced significant loss during their teenage years, those navigating complex family dynamics, and anyone who has ever felt caught between childhood and adulthood. Han’s honest portrayal of grief makes this essential reading for young adults dealing with similar experiences.
Similar Books to Explore:
- The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series by Ann Brashares
- Since You’ve Been Gone by Morgan Matson
- Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell
- Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins
- What’s Not to Love by Jonathan Lethem
It’s Not Summer Without You proves that sequels can surpass their predecessors by digging deeper into character and emotion. It’s a novel that understands the complicated truth that sometimes love means letting go, and that growing up often requires us to fight for the things that matter most, even when—especially when—we’re not sure we’re strong enough to win.