Today's Read Contributor On August 5, 2025, Sunburn, the debut novel by Irish author Chloe Michelle Howarth, earned a prominent spotlight in Harper’s Bazaar’s August Bazaar Book Chat, cementing its status as one of the summer’s most emotionally resonant and culturally significant reads. Set against the evocative backdrop of rural Ireland in the late 1980s and early 1990s, the novel tells the story of Lucy Nolan, a fifteen-year-old girl navigating the sharp edges of adolescence, societal expectation, and forbidden love in a deeply religious community.
Howarth’s novel explores the complexities of first love with unflinching tenderness. Lucy, a bright but emotionally restless teenager, lives in the small Northern Irish town of Crossmore, where the path to adulthood is mapped out in tradition and silence. She is expected to date and eventually marry Martin, her childhood friend and the community’s idea of a perfect partner. Instead, Lucy finds herself increasingly drawn to Susannah O’Shea, a new girl in town who exudes confidence and charm. As their friendship deepens, it blossoms into a powerful, secretive romance that upends Lucy’s world.
The narrative captures Lucy’s awakening with poetic clarity and raw emotion, threading moments of longing, guilt, and joy into a tapestry that reflects the quiet ache of growing up different in a place where conformity is expected. Much of Lucy’s turmoil stems from the weight of Christian guilt instilled in her from an early age—teachings that have framed her budding sexuality as something unnatural or shameful. The novel doesn’t shy away from these difficult internal battles. Instead, it leans into them with compassion and honesty, making Lucy’s voice deeply relatable to readers who have ever felt at odds with their surroundings or themselves.
What sets Sunburn apart is not just its exploration of queer identity, but its immersive rendering of time and place. Howarth evokes 1980s and 1990s Ireland in vivid sensory detail: sunburned shoulders on coastal beaches, stifling church pews, whispered gossip over tea, and the heavy silence that so often cloaked taboo subjects. Through this richly drawn setting, Howarth creates a world that feels both distant and familiar—nostalgic for some, revelatory for others. The Ireland of Lucy’s youth is a place where societal change is stirring beneath the surface, but where tradition still grips tightly, especially in the hearts of mothers, teachers, and clergy.
Lucy’s relationship with her mother is a particularly poignant thread in the novel. Their dynamic is filled with tension, miscommunication, and unspoken love. Lucy longs for her mother’s understanding but fears her judgment, especially as she begins to realize the truth about her feelings for Susannah. Meanwhile, Martin—gentle, dependable, and completely unaware of the storm brewing in Lucy’s heart—remains a steady presence, complicating her emotional journey further. These characters aren’t reduced to archetypes; instead, they are portrayed with depth and humanity, their flaws and strengths rendered with realism and care.
Despite being marketed as a summer romance, Sunburn carries unexpected emotional weight. Readers and critics alike have praised its emotional maturity, noting how it balances heartbreak with hope, repression with revelation. Chloe Michelle Howarth has crafted a coming-of-age story that refuses to simplify or sensationalize queer experiences. Instead, she offers a portrait of a girl slowly coming into herself, inch by inch, across several years and emotional landscapes.
The novel unfolds across a timeline that mirrors a pivotal period in Irish history. Homosexuality remained criminalized in Ireland until 1993, and the cultural climate of the time was shaped by a potent mix of Catholic doctrine, conservative values, and emerging resistance movements. Lucy’s internal battle with her identity, and her fear of rejection and societal shame, reflect the broader context of a country on the brink of transformation. Her story becomes a microcosm of a larger struggle for visibility, dignity, and self-acceptance.
Howarth, born in County Cork in 1996, grew up in an Ireland very different from the one she writes about—but her connection to the cultural memory of those years is palpable. In interviews, she has spoken about the importance of representing queer Irish voices and exploring the emotional nuances of young love. Her writing style is lyrical yet grounded, blending introspection with action, and crafting scenes that linger long after the last page is turned.
Sunburn has been compared to other modern classics of queer literature, yet it retains its own distinct voice. The prose is lush and intimate, steeped in Lucy’s inner world, with entire chapters devoted to her letters, thoughts, and imagined conversations. This inward gaze creates a reading experience that is both intensely personal and universally resonant. For young queer readers, especially, Lucy’s story may serve as a mirror and a lifeline—a reminder that they are not alone in their fears or dreams.
By spotlighting Sunburn, Harper’s Bazaar has brought much-deserved attention to a novel that is more than a seasonal read. It is a bold and beautiful coming-of-age tale that captures the ache of hidden love, the complexity of cultural heritage, and the quiet courage required to live authentically. In an era when queer narratives are increasingly visible but still often sanitized or simplified, Howarth’s debut stands out as a powerful, nuanced contribution to the literary landscape.
As readers continue to discover Lucy’s journey, Sunburn is poised to become a lasting favorite—an intimate exploration of identity, memory, and the kind of love that refuses to stay hidden.
