“Because no one becomes terrible all at once. It happens in very small increments.”
Celebrity-chef Sunshine Mackenzie’s perfect life is shattered when one day a hacker hijacks her twitter account and reveals the sordid truth behind her picture-perfect image. Suddenly everything Sunny’s worked for-- her career, marriage, finances--is in tatters. With nowhere left to turn, Sunshine is forced to slink back to her hometown of Montauk and confront past demons, including an estranged sister and niece. From there, the typical hijinks and melodrama ensue.
Laura Dave’s Hello, Sunshine is a difficult book to pin-down. Ostensibly it’s the much-recycled “fall from grace” tale in which the heroine returns home, tail between her legs, only to discover small-town living is where it’s at. Hello, Sunshine feebly tries to subvert this plot’s inherent rom-com tropes, but these weak attempts don’t read as fresh or original. Instead the story translates into a sad (and confusing) mish-mash. Like an Ingmar Bergman-directed version of Reese Witherspoon’s 2002 film “Sweet Home Alabama.”
Part of the confusion derives from the fact that Hello, Sunshine can’t decide what book it wants to be. It prides itself on avoiding stereotypical rom-com endings, yet engages in every trope defining that label. It’s inappropriate to dub a work “fresh,” when it’s entirely comprised of derivative ideas. You need to pick a lane. If satirical is your goal, then your end-product has to effectively mock the elements its borrowing. That doesn’t happen in Hello, Sunshine. It’s all rom-com trope with bleak, unsatisfying conclusions.
This problem may be partially the result of bad pacing. Hello, Sunshine is a short 256 pages. With a plot-heavy tale, that wasn’t a sufficient page length to proficiently develop new ideas. Clearly Laura Dave wanted to explore themes of privacy, reality, and authenticity, but those points were lost and/or superficially developed due to the book’s brevity. As a result, Sunshine’s life unravels at an unrealistic pace and her “redemption” and “a-ha” moments are similarly rushed.
Sunshine is clearly meant to be portrayed as flawed, but sympathetic. However her character arc is so hastily composed that she only comes across as vapid and unreliable. Sunshine is supposed to realize that her priorities had been previously askew, but when considering her torn marriage she displays a distinct lack of concern.
“I thought of Danny and then I thought of my gutted career: my cancelled contracts, my lack of liquidity.”
Danny, and her 14-year marriage, still play second fiddle to the superficial concerns the narrative is allegedly saying are wrong.
Similarly, we’re meant to believe that Sunshine ultimately recognizes that a genuine existence is superior to living a fraudulent lifestyle. But even after her downfall, Sunshine continues operating with dishonest principles.
“I didn’t even know Peter, let alone had ever worked for him--it was a risky move to use his name. But it added legitimacy. I knew she cared about Per Se.”
How is Sunshine “evolved” when lying remains her preferred modus operandi? It’s the same Sunny, just a different setting. Yes, there are minor character improvements made by book’s end, but they’re too rushed to be considered permanent growth. It reads as Sunshine intellectually understands lying=bad, but when push comes to shove, that remains her default operating system.
In the story, the most likable and relatable characters are Ethan, Sunshine’s niece Sammy, and Chef Z. None of these individuals, however, are effectively used. The bulk of the narrative is focused on ciphers, while the book’s gems are unmined. Ethan is a wonderful counterpoint to Sunshine. He challenges her flawed priorities and their verbal battles are one of the book’s highlights. But Ethan and the Ethan/Sunshine relationship are never given priority. Far too much time is utilized on Sunshine’s broken marriage and husband, Danny, while Danny’s character is frankly boring. If the narrative wanted Danny to be considered a viable option than more time should’ve been spent on creating and polishing his character. To return to the earlier "Sweet Home Alabama" comparison, it would’ve been like Reese Witherspoon’s Melanie remaining with Patrick Dempsey’s kind, but one-dimensional, Andrew. It may be realistic, but in the book’s context, it’s inconsistent and unrewarding.
Despite its faults, Hello, Sunshine is well-written. The prose is familiar, inviting, and warm. But, sadly, the writing can’t overcome the story’s essential flaws. It’s not light enough to be a beach read or developed enough to be considered literature. The novel simply remains in a nebulous, uninspired state.
Thank you to netgalley and the publisher for providing an advanced, complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.