Sunshine by Norma Klein

First published: 1974

Type of work: Domestic realism

Themes: Health and illness, death, and family

Time of work: The early 1970’s

Recommended Ages: 15-18

Locale: Near Spokane, Washington, and in Vancouver, Canada

Principal Characters:

  • Kate Williams, an eighteen-year-old mother, who learns that she has terminal cancer
  • Jill, Kate’s energetic infant daughter by her first husband
  • Sam Hayden, Kate’s boyfriend and later, second husband, a witty, good-natured musician
  • David, Kate’s first husband, a conservative, college-educated geologist
  • Weaver, Sam’s music partner and Kate’s cousin, who resents Kate for intruding in Sam’s musical career
  • Nora, Kate and Sam’s earthy neighbor, known for her many male friends and fondness for health food
  • Dr. Gillman, Kate’s primary doctor, young and in her thirties, whom Kate regards as a substitute mother

The Story

Based on the true story of Jaquelyn M. Helton, Sunshine is a first-person account of Kate Williams’ battle with bone cancer. As she describes the final two years of her life, she intersperses enough of her past to present the biography of a girl strongly influenced by the ideology of the late 1960’s.

When Kate learns that she has a very serious cancer in the bone of her leg, she is living with her boyfriend, Sam Hayden, and her six-month-old daughter, Jill, in the mountains near Spokane, Washington. Having been incorrectly diagnosed and treated for bursitis, Kate has lost precious time; she is advised to have her leg amputated. Realizing that she cannot care for Jill with only one leg, Kate refuses the operation, planning to seek a second opinion in Vancouver, Canada.

At this time, Sam proves his commitment to Kate and Jill. Because her illness may become a burden, Kate suggests that Sam should leave her. Sam met Kate while she was pregnant with Jill, yet he chose to live with her, even listing himself as Jill’s father on the birth certificate. Sam refuses to abandon Kate and Jill. While Kate is still in the Vancouver hospital, they are married.

Prior to their departure for Vancouver, David, Kate’s first husband, makes an inopportune appearance. Kate had married David at the age of sixteen, while he was still in college. Realizing that she was not the traditional housewife, and acknowledging that she married as an escape from her mother, she had left David without telling him that she was pregnant. David now demands custody of Jill. After a tense evening, Sam takes David aside and explains that Kate has cancer; David leaves immediately and does not interfere again. Though brief, this scene quickly establishes the relationships of the characters, reinforces Sam’s commitment to Kate and Jill, and reveals much of Kate’s past.

In their apartment near the Vancouver hospital, Kate keeps house and cares for Jill between chemotherapy treatments. The previous diagnosis has been confirmed, with amputation of her leg being the most hopeful treatment, but not guaranteeing a cure.

As a result of the medication, Kate’s personality changes. She becomes short-tempered with Jill and Sam. After an honest discussion with her doctor, Kate realizes that medication is only prolonging her life while making life less desirable. Dr. Gillman supports her decision to end medication and live a fuller, though shorter, life. Sam is less understanding. Calling her decision “suicide,” he leaves for several days. Though sympathetic to his reaction, Kate longs for him. They reunite, after which Sam, thus far unemployed, finds a job. As Kate’s health quickly deteriorates, neighbor Nora helps care for Jill while Sam works. Kate frequently worries about who will care for Jill after her death, though Sam has legally adopted her.

Eventually the cancer spreads to Kate’s lungs, and she must enter the hospital for her final days. She continues to record her thoughts on a tape recorder loaned to her by Dr. Gillman. Throughout her ordeal, she reveals little fear of death, finding separation from Sam and Jill her greatest concern in dying. Her last recorded thoughts are of Jill.

Context

When author Norma Klein is mentioned, the title Mom, the Wolfman, and Me (1972) springs to mind. Sunshine is not her best-known work, but it is representative of her straightforward approach to issues concerning juveniles and young adults. In contrast to much adolescent fiction, in Sunshine Klein offers no black-and-white resolutions to the issues raised.

This broad-minded approach to life, accompanied by a “free love” doctrine, environmental concerns, and antiwar sentiments, firmly places Sunshine in the early 1970’s. For example, Kate lives with her boyfriend, considering marriage too confining. She wants her body to return to the earth when she dies. Her poetry often condemns the war in Vietnam. These ideas are in many ways timeless, but American youth culture of the 1960’s and 1970’s embodied and extolled them. As Irene Hunt’s Across Five Aprils (1964) allows the reader to experience the issues of the Civil War through Jethro Creighton’s eyes, Sunshine conveys the philosophies of a time in American history through Kate’s own life applications.

More than simply portraying a historical culture, however, Sunshine challenges the reader to face life’s most perplexing questions: Why do young people sometimes die? How should one face death? What comes after death? Sunshine is certainly not the only young adult book to discuss death. Bridge to Terabithia (1977) by Katherine Paterson, Rumble Fish (1975) by S. E. Hinton, and even Little Women (1868-1869) by Louisa May Alcott present central figures who must deal with the death of a loved one. John Gunther’s Death Be Not Proud (1949) and Jeannie Morris’ Brian Piccolo: A Short Season (1971) both discuss the illness and death of the main character. Yet Sunshine is unusual for its first-person narration.

One feature Sunshine shares with other memorable books dealing with death is that its overall message does not focus on death at all. Rather, Kate asks, in effect, “When death is impending, how should one choose to live?” Subtly, the reader finds himself or herself asking, “But should I not live this way all the time?” Sunshine, rather than a morbid account of the progression of a terminal disease, becomes an unromanticized commemoration of a life.