Five Star Book Review

TJ Klune, The House in the Cerulean Sea
For me a five-star book is something that either I want to read again or something that is so profound it makes an immediate impact. There are lots of ways that books can be compelling: a unique idea, an interesting set of characters, a complex plot, an artistic use of the English language and more. Reading is also a subjective experience, so what appeals to me as a reader may be very different for you. I read a lot for both pleasure and work, but these short reviews are a way for me to show my appreciation for the work and the craft of the author of the reviewed work.
The House of the Cerulean Sea surprised me. It started out as a book with a pretty standard anonymous dehumanizing government agency and a main character, Linus, who as a case worker is both completely committed to the rules of the Department in Charge of Magical Youth and yet maintains the ability to see the magical youth as human. On the one hand the story is full of tropes: the dehumanizing bureaucracy, the rule follower who learns to trust his heart, an orphanage that attempts to provide children with a home, the inability of non-magic people to accept those different from them, finding one’s true family and love. The tropes are there and the story is predictable and yet sometimes tropes work because they express something fundamental to the experience of being human. Most people have experienced dehumanizing environments in some shape, not everyone is a rule follower but those who are typically find a time when the rules do not work, the desire for love, home, and acceptance are universal human needs. Sometimes we need characters that are not traditionally human to remind us of what humanity is all about.
It is the children in the story that really shine more than the two adult characters. Linus and Arthur, the caretaker of the orphanage, each have their roles to play in the protection of the children, the island, and the orphanage, but it is the way the children form a relationship with Arthur that transforms him more than anything else. Talia, a gnome, Sal, a shape shifting boy, Phee, a forest sprite, Chauncey a creature who may look monstrous but has a heart of gold, Theodore, a wyvern, and Lucy, an antichrist each in their own way and with their own language open themselves to this outsider who has come to inspect their home. Each bear their own scars from the way they have been treated by the outside world, but they help Linus find his own humanity which has been slowly smothered by his environment before coming to the island. There is an element of a love story between Arthur and Linus which they both struggle to voice and understand but for most of the story this is in the background and the children and their interactions with Linus and Arthur are in the foreground.
This is a book that at moments makes you feel. It can make you feel the desire for home, love, acceptance, and hope for a better future. It is quirky and it is not a story everyone will love. Others may be put off by the same sex relationship between Linus and Arthur. This is a quick read and seeing the children through the eyes of Linus and Arthur, I quickly found them endearing. Despite its tropes and predictability, it was really enjoyable in a comfortable and homey way.


Five Star Book Review
I received an advance readers copy of the Warm Hands of Ghosts and I am a fan of Katherine Arden’s The Bear and the Nightingale series as well as her middle grade series Small Spaces. The Warm Hands of Ghosts takes the reader back to the historical fantasy genre of The Bear and the Nightingale, but this time the environment is primarily the hellish environment of Belgium in 1917 during the World War I battle for Passchendaele. Katherine Arden does a phenomenal job of presenting the environment of a world at war through the eyes of Laura and Freddie Iven. Laura begins the narrative home in Canada after several years as a field nurse for the medical corps, while her younger brother Freddie later joins the Canadian army in the trenches near Ypres. There is both a spiritualist and an apocalyptic framing of the war (particularly in a Jehovah’s Witness sense) and into the soul stealing space of war enters the beguiling but also devilish Faland. There are some similarities to the Smiling Man of the Small Spaces series, but the devil in a different context calls a different tune and plays a different game.
Miroslav Volf has been an influential theological voice for me since his publication of Exclusion and Embrace and I have learned a great deal from his writing over the past two decades. Volf has been wrestling with the question of what makes a life worth living in his publications for the last eight years and this book feels like the successful culmination of years of writing, teaching, and seeking wise partners from his position at the Yale Divinity School and the Yale Center for Faith and Culture. His previous books on this topic (Flourishing: Why we Need Religion in a Globalized World and For the Life of the World: Theology that Makes a Difference) have helped frame the questions that now A Life Worth Living provides a guide for working through. A Life Worth Living models the class that Volf, Croasmun, and McAnnally-Linz teach at Yale, as well as at Danbury Federal Correctional Institute where they invite their seekers to consider several faith and wisdom traditions as they pose several key questions that are a part of seeking an authentic life. These questions include: What is worth wanting? What is the place of happiness in an authentic life? What is the authority are we responsible and what traditions form our vision of truth? How does a good life feel and what role do negative emotions/suffering have in the good life? What is worth hoping for? How should we live and what provides for a meaningful life? How do the various answers come together to form a life worth living? How does our good life fit within our bigger picture of the world? What do we do when we fall short of our visions of what life should be? How do we react to the suffering we experience and the suffering we encounter in the world around us?
Sunyi Dean. The Book Eaters