Arthur Parnassus, a survivor of the regressive policies of the Department of Magical Youth (DICOMY), would never have imagined his adult life could be so happy. But even as he enjoys his status as soon-to-be adoptive father to the six magical children who live with him and his boyfriend, Linus, on Marsyas Island, the world is becoming more dangerous for people like Arthur and his charges. In an effort to shine a light on the treatment of magical beings at the hands of DICOMY, Arthur publicly testifies about his past and the issues with the current system of orphanages and segregation of magical children. But it soon becomes clear that the government is less interested in what Arthur has to say than in painting him and the children as dangers that must be subdued to defend “normal” families. After Arthur’s testimony inevitably ends badly, Marsyas is saddled with a new inspector determined to prove that the children must be removed and order restored.
How jazz and Studio Ghibli helped TJ Klune return to Marsyas Island.
On the surface, Somewhere Beyond the Sea, the highly anticipated sequel to TJ Klune’s beloved 2020 bestseller The House in the Cerulean Sea, seems to be taking Arthur and Linus’ story in an ominous direction. The threat of DICOMY looms larger, its lieutenants more threatening and its messaging more overtly fascist. Some of this is a matter of perspective: While the first book followed Linus’ journey from a well-meaning outsider to a solid ally, Somewhere Beyond the Sea is told from Arthur’s point of view. The shift in perspective centers Arthur’s struggle to hold on to what is precious in the face of increasingly bigoted attacks and the weight of personal trauma, all the while trying to figure out the “right” way to protest being abused by his own government. Yet despite its darker framing, the novel remains rooted in the joy of its characters as much as in their struggles. From weekly Saturday adventures to Arthur and Linus’ blooming relationship, Somewhere Beyond the Sea never misses an opportunity to show us the love that permeates Marsyas. Indeed, the novel is a triumphant rallying cry that reminds readers that it isn’t enough to believe in the rights of our brethren: We have to fight for their joy, too.
