Sea Creatures

In “The House in the Cerulean Sea,” author T.J. Klune explores the magic of home and family

It’s a common literary trope: the retiring introvert – safely numb in an insulated, bubble existence – who must take a risk and step outside the daily routine in order to find true fulfillment.

In “The House in the Cerulean Sea,” Linus Baker is the epitome of the drearily ensconced: a workaday schlub whose job, for the past 17 years, has been to audit orphanages.

It doesn’t even seem to help that Linus works for a government agency called the Department in Charge of Magical Youth (DICOMY for short), and that the orphanages he visits are full of colorful creatures – gnomes, shapeshifters, and forest sprites, for example.

At the end of each day, Linus has a small house, a nonplussed cat, a nosey neighbor, and not much else.

“Linus Baker was not a fool,” the reader is told early on. “He prided himself in that regard. He was well aware of his limitations as a human being. When it was dark, he preferred to be locked safely inside his house, wearing his monogrammed pajamas, a record playing on the Victrola, holding a warm drink in his hands.”

Put simply, he is just the sort of character in need of a good adventure, and an opportunity to burst his bubble.

Fortunately for readers, author T.J. Klune provides just that, and much more.

The shadowy powers that be at DICOMY – known to all as Extremely Upper Management – dispatch Linus to far-flung, picturesque Marsyas Island to investigate the orphanage there.

It’s a month-long assignment, and not one Linus is excited about, especially after he learns one of the Marsyas orphans – a six-year-old boy named Lucy – is actually none other than Lucifer, the Antichrist.

Lucy and the rest of the magical Marsyas youth live under the watchful eye of one Arthur Parnassus. It soon becomes Linus’s mission to determine if enigmatic Arthur is a fit father figure.

For all of its fantastical elements, including a bearded female gnome named Talia, a glutinous blob named Chauncey that aspires to be a hotel bellhop, and Theodore, a dragon-like wyvern that collects buttons – “The House in the Cerulean Sea” is, at its heart, about the magic of home and family.

Despite having made connections with everyone at Marsyas Orphanage, Linus finds it difficult to imagine any life other the monochromatic one that awaits him back in the city.

“A home isn’t always the house we live in,” another character tells him. “It’s also the people we choose to surround ourselves with. You may not live on the island, but you can’t tell me it’s not your home. Your bubble, Mr. Baker. It’s been popped. Why would you allow it to grow around you again?”

At this point it may interest you to know that “The House in the Cerulean Sea” is also very much a romance novel.

The precise form that romance takes is for you to discover, but I found it to be the most satisfying element in a very engaging novel.

Though this book blends elements of fantasy, romance, and even a hint of cozy mystery, Klune, 42, deftly balances the elements to create an elegant, enchanting story with a moral center.

The novel moves at a languorous, reflective pace, but it never feels too slow. Small revelations propel the story forward, progressively transforming Linus from a “by the book” government cog to someone willing to fight for those important to him.

For those who find 2019’s “The House in the Cerulean Sea” to their liking, a sequel – “Somewhere Beyond the Sea” – was released earlier this year.

To purchase your own copy of “The House in the Cerulean Sea,” visit bookshop.org, the indie bookstore alternative to Amazon.

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