Island Affair, and the pitfalls of saccharine romance

I picked up this novel in search of something light to act as a palate cleanser after all the Door books I read throughout June. It did, in fact, do the job, but it left me with a few musings about rom-coms. As avid followers of my blog (lol, as if), you have the pleasure of reading about them below.

---

First off, the book is a strange mix of tones - one moment the characters are reflecting of some serious trauma and mental health struggles. The next, they are outlining in cringe-worthy detail how they'd like to screw each other's brains out. My partner (rightly) pointed out that it's not an entirely unrealistic representation of how humans work, but it still felt jarring and not quite right to me.

The attraction and sexy (?) scenes between the two main characters were another sticking point for me. All the descriptions, from the romantic to the steamy ones, were done using such saccharine tone, it made me physically stop to shiver or gag a few times. The smutty bits in particular made me think of old-lady erotica novels, with the 'pits of desire', and 'her most intimate places' and 'mounds of pleasure' something or other.

Now, I will admit, writing sex scenes without sounding either super crude and gross or super vanilla and cringe-y is hard. As an aspiring writer myself, I have consciously shied away from describing anything more than a kiss for this particular reason. The only author I've found has done this relatively well is Sarah J. Maas, and I know many (including my partner) disagree with me. So kudos to Priscilla Oliveras for having a go.

Another thing that really rubbed me the wrong way (wheeeey! sorry, mind still in the kinky gutter) was the detailed descriptions of how bloody attractive Sara and Luis both are. For a book which very explicitly deals with eating disorders and body positivity, it sure goes to great lengths to describe how perfectly sculpted the firefighter is, the extraordinary length of Sara's legs, and the flatness of her stomach. This is not even an exhaustive list either.

I think (or hope, anyways) us readers have come a long way in our chicklit preferences, and no longer want to read about perfect specimens. Whenever I pick up a book which describes the main character as a flawless, outgoing, talented goddess, it's more off-putting than aspirational. And considering Oliveras does a relatively good job with making her character's personalities flawed and realistic, it was disappointing to have their looks be 00s in their perfection.

Speaking of personalities, I do appreciate the synopsis leads with Sara's eating disorder. If you've been following my reviews, you would know lack of content warnings is a big pet peeve of mine. The story is also a surprisingly great exploration of the importance of looking after your mental health and having open communication with your loved ones.

Last, but not least, let's talk about the Spanish. As you might know from my Nocturna review, I get disproportionately excited when anyone speaks Spanish in the books I read. So I was super chuffed to find another such novel, and an apt narrator (Carmen Vine) who could do the language justice. My only gripe this time is the stilted way Oliveras tries to cram in a translation every time a Spanish phrase is used. I know it's necessary for the readers without any prior knowledge, but it still felt clumsy to me.

Overall, Island Affair was a pleasant enough summer read and a nice break from more serious fantasy books. Will I be picking up the next book in what is promoted on Goodreads as a series? Probably not.

3/5 stars