We’ll Always Have Summer: A Tumultuous Farewell to the Series
When I first dived into We’ll Always Have Summer, the third and final installment in Jenny Han’s Summer series, I was trying to rekindle the comforting nostalgia that came with the earlier books. I loved the whimsy and charm of Belly, Conrad, and Jeremiah in their youth. Now, years later, I was curious to see how they would conclude their tumultuous journey. Unfortunately, what I found left me more than a little frustrated.
First, let me issue a major spoiler alert—this review will lay bare everything (yes, everything) about the plot twists and character unravelings. And buckle up, because I’m about to unleash some serious feelings.
From the opening pages, I was disoriented. Belly, now a college student, felt different. My initial thought was that she had finally matured. Spoiler alert: I was wrong. Following a misguided proposal from Jeremiah—after he cheated, no less—Belly’s choices spiraled in a direction I could hardly believe. Seriously, who proposes to someone immediately after infidelity? It felt like a slap in the face, and my frustration grew as Belly accepted. Like, girl, have you lost your mind?
Yes, I fully expected angst and complicated love triangles, but this time it felt like a complete misfire. Belly’s blind acceptance of Jeremiah’s proposal had me shouting at my e-reader, feeling robbed of the intelligent, self-aware character I thought she’d become. And when she started planning a wedding in the midst of all this chaos? I screamed internally.
For a book purportedly centered around significant change and decisions, the narrative stumbled. Instead of character growth or tension, I slogged through mundane wedding plans and some annoying college antics. Where was the emotional depth that made the previous books so captivating? Belly’s internal conflicts and the reignition of her feelings for Conrad landed as mere footnotes in her wedding frenzy, and it drove me absolutely bonkers.
As for the characters, they felt inconsistent. Belly oscillated between doe-eyed naiveté and moments of clarity that just made me want to shake her. And Jeremiah? He was almost unrecognizable, reduced to a jealous shell of his former self. The only character who ticked the boxes for me was Taylor; her supportive arc was a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stagnant narrative.
The pacing of the book was frustrating too. Just as I thought I might finally get that long-awaited Conrad-Belly moment—BOOM, the book ends. After 290 pages of teeth-grinding drama, it felt like I was stood up one too many times; when Conrad finally expressed his feelings, the climax was over in a flash. I found myself furiously flipping back and forth, wondering where the rest of my emotional payoff went.
In the end, my tumultuous reading experience led me through the stages of anger, depression, and a sense of feeling utterly lost. I’m left feeling like I just got dumped, questioning everything I thought I knew about these beloved characters. The writing, while captivating, didn’t salvage the overall frustration I felt.
So who might still enjoy this book? Maybe readers looking for a wild emotional ride or fans of heated love triangles might find something to appreciate. But for me? I’m left holding the ruins of a once-beloved series, mourning what could have been.
Thank you, Jenny Han, for stirring my emotions—just not in the way I’d hoped.
Discover more about We’ll Always Have Summer (Summer, #3) on GoodReads >>