It oughta be a movie: The House in the Cerulean Sea, by TJ Klune
I wasn’t sure where to start writing this review, since transcribing a string of delighted squeaking would probably not be helpful! Long story short, this shook me out of a bit of a reading slump1 and left me feeling all warm and fuzzy.
Part of that may be due to the fact that I kept being reminded of one of my long-time favorite authors: Terry Pratchett. It isn’t that the style or the story or the world feels like a copy – far from it! But there are certain characters that do feel a bit like alternate-universe versions of Discworld or Good Omens ones. There is a phoenix who isn’t always phoenix-shaped and whose wings burn things selectively. There is a girl gnome with a beard. There is a six-year-old Antichrist who likes leading other kids on imaginary adventures. And, most notably, we have the two adult leads: a plump, fussy, rather anxious man who works for a bureaucracy he’s really trying hard to think of as good, and a tall, thin, rule-questioning fellow who turns out to have powers related to fire.
Linus Baker is a caseworker in the Department in Charge of Magical Youth who is sent out to review an orphanage on a distant island. His anxiety is initially at high pitch, as he’s been told this is a top secret, potentially hazardous assignment. This presents some interesting cognitive dissonance since the reader will be quicker to see island - bathed in brilliant sunlight, surrounded by a cerulean sea, and inhabited by five mischievous kids, their caretaker Arthur Parnassus, and an unregistered native being – as a whimsical paradise than Linus, the POV character, is. The kids include Talia the gnome, Sal the Were-Pomeranian, Theodore the wyvern, Phee the forest sprite, and Chauncy the…well, no one’s exactly sure. Some kind of aquatic alien, maybe? Lucy, short for Lucifer, does have some frightening abilities, but the others don’t seem to be scared of him:
A chilling voice rang out, sounding as if it were coming from everywhere… ‘I am evil incarnate,’ the dastardly voice said. ‘I am the blight upon the skin of this world…Prepare for the End of Days! Your time has come, and the rivers will run with the blood of the innocents!’ Talia sighed. ‘He’s such a drama queen.’
It becomes clear that some of the acting out we initially see is because the kids are afraid that Linus is going to close down the orphanage and send them away. Each of them has been through traumas, and Linus soon comes to see their individual talents and fears. He also finds himself very much drawn to the gentle man who is teaching these children to express their true selves in a joyful and non-harmful way. Arthur lets Talia design the garden and Theodore keep a hoard of buttons and shiny rocks under the sofa, and he encourages Sal's writing and Chauncy's dreams of being a bellhop. As for Lucy, his room is a walk-in closet adjoining Arthur’s room, because he gets telekinetic nightmares sometimes and needs to be talked down. Linus worries what he’s going to find when he inspects it, which Lucy knows:
‘If you’d have listened to my decorating ideas, there would be no room for disappointment. There would be only joy.’ He glanced at Linus. ‘Well, for me.’ Mr. Parnassus spread his hands in a placating gesture. ‘I don’t think having severed human heads is conducive to a good night’s sleep or the health and sanity of Mr. Baker, even if they were to be made of papier-mache.’ ‘Severed heads?’ Linus asked in a strangled voice. Lucy sighed. ‘Just representations of my enemies. The Pope. Evangelicals who attend megachurches. You know, like normal people have.’… He pushed on the door. It creaked on its hinges and – Revealed a small space with a twin bed against one wall…On the walls were vinyl records…There was Little Richard, the Big Bopper…there were more Buddy Holly records than any other.
Arthur almost seems a little too perfect. But that is because he has trained himself to modulate his emotions, for both good and bad reasons. He certainly does feel frustration and anger and sometimes will let a little of it show, as when, early on, Linus is trying to classify Chauncey, on the justification that knowledge is power:
Mr. Parnassus snorted. ‘Ah. Power. Spoken like a true representative of DICOMY…You should know that there’s a chance you’ll find Chauncey under your bed at one point or another.’ That startled Linus. ‘What? Why?’ ‘Because…he was called a monster, even by people who should have known better. He was told the stories of monsters hiding under beds whose calling in life was to frighten others…It wasn’t until he came here that he realized he could be something more.’… ‘But he’ll never be able to-’ Linus stopped himself… ‘He’ll never be able to be a bellhop because what hotel would ever hire one such as him?’
And, of course, if anyone threatens his kids he can get downright scary!
Even the minor side characters are distinctive and frequently hilarious. Linus’s elderly neighbor, Mrs. Klapper, for instance:
‘No lucky lady friend?’ She sucked on her pipe and blew the thick smoke out her nose. ‘Oh, forgive me. It must have slipped my mind. Not one for the ladies, are you?’ It hadn’t slipped her mind. ‘No, Mrs. Klapper.’ ‘My grandson is an accountant. Very stable. Mostly. He does have a tendency toward rampant alcoholism, but who am I to judge his vices?...I’ll have him call you.’ ‘I’d prefer if you didn’t.’… ‘Being alone at your age isn’t healthy. I’d hate to think of what would happen if you were to blow your brains out. It’d hurt the resale value of the whole neighborhood.’ ‘I’m not depressed!’ She looked him up and down. ‘You aren’t? Why on earth not?’
There’s Zoe Chapelwhite, the island sprite, who has both a distinctive character design (white hair, dark skin, violet-tinted eyes, always barefoot), and a powerful personality. She’s prickly, protective, and likes freaking Linus out by driving too fast and making enigmatic statements. And then there’s J-bone, the record-store guy in the village:
‘Little dude’s got a beard. And she’s a lady-dude.’ ‘It’s very soft,’ Lucy said. ‘She has all these soaps for it. They smell like flowers and girly stuff.’ ‘Righteous,’ J-Bone said. ‘Respect, lady-dude.’… ‘You smell funny,’ Lucy said… ‘Like plants, but not like any that Talia has in her garden.’ ‘Oh, yeah,’ J-Bone said. ‘I grow and smoke my own –’ ‘That’s quite enough of that,’ Linus said. ‘We don’t need to know anything about your extracurricular activities.’ ‘Who’s the square?’ J-Bone whispered. ‘Mr. Baker,’ Lucy whispered back. ‘He’s here to make sure I don’t burn anyone alive with the power of my mind and then consume their souls from their smoking carcass.’ ‘Rock on, little dude,’ J-Bone said, offering a high five.
I’ve seen this book criticized for weak world-building, but it doesn’t really need it. The story is very tightly focused on character interactions and uses just two locations (maybe four, if you count separately Linus’s house vs. office in the city, and the island vs. the town of Marsyas). I did wonder initially why there were so many magical kids in orphanages – if, like the X-Men, they were mostly born to “normal” families and got taken away at some point because their parents couldn’t handle them. But most do seem to have had magical parents but were orphaned or abandoned at some point. Wyverns, for instance, are an endangered species – even DCOMY employees like Linus aren’t taught that they have language! - and Phee’s parents starved to death in something like a concentration camp. That is really the key bit of backstory; the rest can perfectly well be left unsaid.
A quote on the front cover describes this book as “like being wrapped up in a big gay blanket,” which is both accurate and slightly misleading. Linus and Arthur’s slow-burn romance sub-plot is indeed very sweet, and we even get a hint at the end that the kids may end up with a pair of moms as well as a pair of dads2. But the main focus of the book is really Linus’ growth as he gets to know the kids, and the primary themes are about seeing past the limiting, fearful assumptions we might have about other people and ourselves and discovering and valuing our strengths and theirs instead. For a while, though I knew there weas supposed to be happy ending, I worried that the main characters were going to be put through some further trauma before they got there. Happily, that was not the case; they do quite an effective job at finding allies and protecting one another. You can argue about whether that is realistic…but sometimes you need a happy story to believe that, just sometimes, the world can be like that, damn it!
1. I was halfway through four different books and feeling unmotivated to finish any of them, even ‘Wild Seed’ which I posted about last time. I’m glad this one gave me the energy to finish it.
2. Incidentally, as Mrs. Klapper’s comments suggest, that’s not an issue in the world of the story. There’s kind of a funny moment toward the end where Linus wonders if they’ll be allowed to adopt “because we’re…’ He coughed roughly. ‘You know’.” And the “you know” is NOT short for “two dudes.”
Adaptation issues:
I kept hearing Michael Sheen’s plummy Aziraphale accent and David Tennant’s soft Scottish “Crowley as Nanny Ashtoreth” voice in my head as I read, and it was delightful. However, while I would absolutely pay good money to see those two play Linus and Arthur, I actually think this story would work really well as an animated film or series. The cover of the book itself (copied above) looks just as Linus’s first view of the island should: all bright blue sky and sea, with the design of the house planting just a bit of doubt as to whether it will be rustically charming or spooky. And there would be a sharp contrast between the colorful world inhabited by Arthur and the kids and the grey, drizzly city that houses the joyless DCOMY building.
Of course, to Americans animation suggests “this is for kids”… but while that isn’t necessarily true (DO NOT show your 6-year-old ‘Black Butler’!) it wouldn’t be out of place in this case. Adults will relate to the grown-up characters - especially if they’ve ever known the hell of an open-floorplan office - but the motley crew of orphans and the balance of whimsy and deeper messages resembles the better sort of children’s media. Linus even has an animal side-kick of sorts: his slightly demonic black cat, Calliope. It is a bit odd that this world has the same Golden Oldies we do, even though it is clearly an entirely different place. However, the soundtrack that is suggested would work quite well with the vibe of the story, so I would absolutely keep it!
