The House in the Cerulean Sea

As Linus would say, “oh dear, what a DELIGHT!”

You know how sometimes the fantasy genre uses a different world, species, or place as an allegory for marginalization and the discrimination people face in a world that is systemically against them? Well, this book sure has that. And you know how, despite the message they're trying to send about people's differences being beautiful and something to be celebrated, sometimes those books include nothing but straight, white, cis people and the “monsters,” a dichotomy that works against the message itself? Well, this book sure does NOT have that.

Linus Baker is a rule-abiding human caseworker for DICOMY (the Department in Charge of Magical Youths), tasked with visiting the isolated orphanage on the island of Marsyas, where the most dangerous and uncommon types of magical children are looked after by their master, Arthur Parnassus. Linus's goal is to reside at the orphanage for one month, and ultimately decide if the orphanage should remain open, or be closed down. Linus is a wonderfully drawn character. Though frustratingly uptight and obsessed with the government issued book Rules and Regulations, the way he opens up and learns while on the island is beautiful and heartwarming to watch.

The children are so vibrant and unique—not just because of the kinds of magical beings they are, but because of the depth with which they are written. Instead of blending together into an amorphous, annoying blob of childhood, they each have their own personality and voice. There's Talia, a gnome with a fierce heart and a beautiful garden. There's Phee, a forest sprite who has lost everything, but who can pull the beauty of nature from the bare soil. There's Chauncey, a green blob with tentacles instead of arms, whose sole dream in life is to become a bellhop. There's Theodore, a wyvern who collects buttons and other treasures. And there's Lucy, the Antichrist, the literal son of the devil, a 6 year old who loves to cook, listen to his old records, and most of all, his brothers and sisters.

And Arthur. The master of the orphanage, a man with a painful past, and a father figure to all of these children. Arthur is everything Linus is not—open-hearted and unconventional, adventurous and spirited. The way these two men learn from each other and develop feelings for each other is so lovely to watch. They help each other stand up for what they believe is right. It's also a true slow-burn!!! Finally!

A recurring question in this book is “Don't you wish you were here?” So—at a time when things are difficult and uncertain, when the world is scary and you just need something to make you feel warm and hopeful—I ask you, don't you wish you were here, reading this book?