The unnamed narrator of William Rayfett Hunter’s debut novel, a mixed-race aspiring musician from Manchester, finds himself in an unfamiliar environment when he invites his stunning college friend Lily to spend the summer at his parents’ country chateau. There’s an underlying tension; he missteps with the staff once or twice, but overall, the family is friendly. Lily’s brother, Felix, who is openly bisexual and a striking actor, is notably welcoming. Their budding relationship brings some unexpected advantages to the narrator, including a challenging job at Felix’s father’s real estate company and a promise from his mother to help him audition for the Royal Academy. However, it feels too good to be true, and doubt lingers.
Sunstruck explores themes of identity and belonging. The protagonist has a varied past, having played with goth kids in school, and his best friend Jasmine, who is Black, nicknamed him “White Boy” due to his limited engagement with Black pop culture. The narrative shifts to London, where racial awareness starts to take shape, particularly after an incident where a friend of Jasmine’s is brutally beaten by police at the Notting Hill Carnival. He grapples with feeling permanently outside of Felix’s world, creating an imbalance in their relationship. Yet, he struggles to walk away, describing a captivating feeling of discovery: “the feeling of intoxicating drunkenness, moving through spaces I didn’t know existed… this is something I can’t give up.”
Amidst psychological scars from a traumatic childhood, the narrator feels particularly drawn to Felix. Through moving flashbacks, we learn about his mother’s severe mental health issues and their long-standing estrangement. Yet, his current existence feels disconnected; he seems more like a spectator in his own life, defined by his separateness. His appealing looks and charm don’t resonate deeply for readers. The first-person narrative can feel overwhelming, often leading him to reflect on moments of melancholy. Lily’s brothers call her magpie “because she collects beautiful things.” Perhaps he’s just a bit of a himbo?
Fortunately, the novel is rich with plots. Its energetic pacing creates an engaging experience, blending emotional depth and a darker storyline with political undertones. The writing evokes a mix of airport romance novels and stylish television drama scripts. Emotions rise and fall through the narrator’s heart, vividly portraying intense feelings. The characters in Lily and Felix’s sphere often feel like stereotypes, oscillating between joyfulness and socially awkward detachment, while the depiction of upper-class affluence lacks nuance. Clothing, beverages, and partners are just “expensive” or “upscale.”
At times, it feels like the narrator himself might be half-heartedly envisioning this as a film. “The shaft of light from my face to him was while my lovers were hugging me. After I hugged her, ‘Our reflections blur in the window.'” Some moments come off a bit cheesy, such as when “Felix’s eyes flash with rage… it burns like filaments from a camera’s bulb and explodes.”
In the early chapters of Sunstruck, the narrator finds himself before the headless torso of an alabaster statue of Venus, the Roman Goddess of Love, crafted by Felix’s mother, only to have Felix behead it in a fit of rage, warning others to stay away. This moment serves as a microcosm of the novel’s themes, hinting at a darker, hidden insanity. Our unfortunate heroes appear so enthralled that they overlook the warning signs.
