I'd really like to read Sunstone from the perspective of someone who isn't intimately familiar with BDSM culture. As a submissive myself, I went into Sunstone thinking it would "normalize" BDSM; it'd make BDSM seem "regular," so to speak, and demonstrate that kink culture isn't something to be frightened of, but rather, something quite romantic - personal, exciting, and deeply intimate. Reading it, I did think, "well, this is cute, and sweet, and charming and funny, and it sure does make BDSM seem regular, and make kink culture out as nothing to be frightened of - something innately human, romantic, exciting, and deeply intimate." Putting down the book, though, I realize... well, I ALREADY thought those things. So all Sunstone really did was reaffirm my beliefs. Ah, poop.
So, I'm not sure how well Sunstone really achieves its goal of broadening the horizons of "vanilla" (that's what us BDSM people call not-BDSM people) readers, and making BDSM seem a little more accessible and appropriate than not at all. Trying to gain acceptance and understanding, I guess, with a readerbase that has no motivation to accept it, and no basis of understanding it. I already accept BDSM, as something approaching the core of my very being, so, I can't say either way. What I can do is tell you exactly why I liked this book. It might not be especially useful, but if you're considering reading it yourself, you probably already know if you're turned off by the subject matter. I'll fill you in, then, on what I thought of the actual content.
So, Sunstone... it's a romcom, really. And, like a romcom, it breaks most all the rules of believable human interaction almost immediately. Neither a thumbs down or thumbs up, this is merely an observation: Sunstone isn't realistic in the slightest. Kind of how the typical "boy meets girl" romcom plot is a ridiculous oversimplification of the actual scenarios that inspire it, Sunstone's "girl meets girl" plot is an excuse for little more than a sweet, borderline saccharine romance tale. Lisa and Ally meet online and within two months they're walking naked through each other's houses. That might be a thing that happens, sure, and the book does a decent job of rationalizing the intense, nervous emotion that it entails, but, boiled down to its elements, it's a sappy love story, fast-tracked to get to the meat of the relationship.
That's not a problem, of course. A sappy love story lives and dies on its characters, after all, and writer and artist Stjepan Šejić has created two genuinely wonderful people in his characters of Lisa and Ally. They play to tropes, just as the overall plot does, but again - there's certainly nothing wrong with that. It suits the genre perfectly. Both girls are silly, shy, a little "crazy" perhaps, but they've got huge hearts, and we explore their blossoming relationship in a way that makes us care for them. Their inner voices, in particular, are very natural and believable, though certainly exaggerated, in a way that makes them... well, they're like friends you haven't met yet, really. They're very appealingly rough human beings - that kind of "imperfect in all the perfect ways" quality that makes their mundane lives exciting to read, instead of just dull. Like I said - it works perfectly for a romcom. (It helps that Šejić has a wit and warmth to his writing that seems to come instinctively - nothing feels particularly forced. Again, it's very natural.)
Ally is desperately lonely girl who lives her dreams with no-one to share them with. Lisa is a repressed, excited girl who is exploring her desires. The two fall in love, and are, of course, perfect for each other. There are complications, there are perfect moments of pure bliss, there are dopey and terrible unromantic scenes of uneventful domestic time-wasting, and that's really all there is to it. Two nice characters fall in love in a way that makes you want to read about their falling in love. It's the perfect execution of a very traditional formula. What else is there to say?
Oh. Right. Also, there's bondage sex in it.
Honestly (and I'm not too sure how honest I should be about this), this book's biggest strength - at least for me - is the way it manages to so perfectly capture the feelings of the bondage fetish, masochism, and even sadism. Like, it seems to focus very specifically on the urges as if they are innate and primal; there's no sugar-coated guff about "experimenting", it's all "since I was a teenager I've wanted to be dominated" stuff. Frank, open, and... well... yeah, normalized completely. It isn't some huge taboo, it isn't treated with a deft touch or a subtle twist, it's just all out in the open. "I've always wanted to be tied up" - that's how people think! It's so respectful and regular and it warms my heart that it doesn't tip-toe around the subject like it's alien or weird. Hell, it feels so normal, so factual, that when the actual sex happened I was kind of taken aback. Like... oh, full frontal female nudity. Oh, right, yeah, this is an erotic romantic comedy. I had legitimately forgotten. And now there's tits. Ohhhh myyyyy.
So, hey, here's a dilemma - am I meant to rate this book on how sexy it is? Because, y'know, it is pretty sexy (again, it aligns with my desires and interests, so, not exactly a trustworthy judgement call coming from me), but I don't know if... like, is that okay to say? "This book's hot." I mean, it's not like porn (well it is but shhhh), but some scenes got me a bit hot under the collar, certainly. A bit turned-on, so to speak. Usually I wouldn't mention either way if a book "accomplished" that, so, what, IS that an accomplishment? I have never reviewed an erotic comic before. Not even Sex Criminals was quite on this level of... sexy... sex... sextimes.
On the other hand... it is very similar to Sex Criminals. Fraction and Zdarksy explored sexual awakenings and exploration and how it links with romance and humanity and life, and Šejić has basically done the same here. It's a lot more to-the-point than Sex Criminals, though. Sex Criminals is a clever book, with a minimalist art style and storytelling intrigue and a sort of sci-fi hook towards the end of the first volume. Sunstone spares no room for subtly, with deft, richly illustrated panels of squeaking latex and nude bodies and women having orgasms. And... sitting on the bus and buying coffee and playing videogames. It's not complex, per se, but you know, I wouldn't dare say Sunstone isn't varied.
I said Sex Criminals was important. Is Sunstone important? The fact that I can only name one genuine contemporary is perhaps a little concerning, but honestly, when it comes down to brass tacks, Sunstone is fluff. Really light, fluffy, lesbian romantic comedy. It's also deeply erotic, and explores the emotions and sensations attached to prevalent yet oft misunderstood set of interconnecting fetishes. Is that important? Is it important that this stuff can be represented in the same frank, normalized way as your the overused and generally accepted as red "boy meets girl" archetype? Perhaps it is. Sunstone, perhaps, is important. I won't say, though, that Sunstone isn't cheap, quasi-manipulative romantic fluff. Important? Sure. Artful? ...maybe not so much. I love it a lot, though. It hit my buttons (no pun intended) pretty flawlessly, it's stunningly illustrated, and it's cute. It's a feelgood, adorable, thoroughly entertaining time with some new gay best friends of yours who fall in love, who just also happen to often have insatiable kinky gay sex. Why not, eh? I guess, in its own way, on its own time, Sunstone really is very, very important.