Fantastic Journeys

Hello, readers, and welcome to another year of heart-warming, thought-provoking happy endings! This month, I have two recommendations for LGBTQ romances with fantasy elements. Let’s take a journey into possibility on sparkling islands and metropolitan public transportation…

T. J. Klune’s The House in the Cerulean Sea (2020) is a quirky, delightful novel that may fill the void for Harry Potter fans betrayed by J.K. Rowling’s anti-trans comments. Linus Baker, a Case Worker at the Department in Charge of Magical Youth (DICOMY), receives his latest assignment from Extremely Upper Management: visit the far-flung Marsyas Island Orphanage which houses some of the most difficult magical children, including the self-proclaimed Antichrist. Linus, a stickler for following policy, finds himself drawn into the community, protective of its inhabitants, and questioning the strictures from the governmental agency he works for and whose policies he has upheld. He sees the fear and hate some on the mainland express, and considers the wisdom of keeping the magical and non-magical communities separate. While the romance story is not as prominent in this novel than in most works in the genre, sparks fly between him and Arthur Parnassus, the mysterious caregiver for the orphanage. Over the course of Linus’s stay, secrets are revealed that potentially change his views on this place and these children; he must decide what to tell Extremely Upper Management, recognizing that the fate of the island community hinges on his report.

Klune deftly creates a world where the magical co-exists with realism, and uses his detail-rich storytelling to explore ideas about community, care for others, acceptance, and nurturing. We learn of trauma and abuse, and the ability to flourish under the right conditions of acceptance and nurture. One of the most powerful themes of the book in this particular cultural moment is how individuals put themselves on the line for the greater good of the collective. There’s also an important secret that will be especially meaningful for UWGB folks!

While writing this review, I discovered information that may complicate how readers feel about the novel. In an interview with John Scalzi, Klune shared his inspiration for the novel, which began with fragments of an idea: “Before I started The House in the Cerulean Sea, I had the pieces of an idea, these little shards that didn’t quite come together into a clear picture. It had to do with magical people dealing with fear and discrimination. Specifically, it would involve magical children, those who should have been protected at all costs, but instead were shunned for simply existing at all.” Klune explains that his ideas took firmer shape after learning about “the Sixties Scoop,” and Canadian residential schools for indigenous children. After learning about these atrocities, “I researched more, and discovered instances the world over, in my own country and abroad, of the same thing happening: families being separated because they were different, because of the color of their skin, because of their faith, because those in power were scared of them. I wrote The House in the Cerulean Sea in the spring of 2018, months later, in the summer, news exploded from our southern border about families searching for a better life being separated and put into government-sanctioned facilities.”  Some reviewers critique the book for taking the real-world suffering of BIPOC individuals and transforming it into a magical tale in which love, kindness, and community overcome the forces of oppression. Others critique whether Klune, a white, queer, cisgender male, is the right person to tell the story. Whatever you think about this context, the novel illustrates ways that people who are marginalized find community, love, and joy despite the powerful institutions that oppress them.

Casey McQuiston’s One Last Stop (2021) follows her wildly successful Red, White, and Royal Blue (2019), and turns to a romance between two women: Asian-American lesbian Jane Su, who lives on a Q subway train, and August Landry, white, bisexual, and a recent transplant to Brooklyn. Like Klune’s novel, One Last Stop focuses on a realistic world with the exception of Jane, who has been trapped on this subway line since 1977. The novel chronicles Jane and August’s growing relationship, and August’s growing connection to her roommates and co-workers, creating a found family that is vibrant, fun, and supportive in ways that August hasn’t experienced from her family of origin.

One Last Stop illustrates greater acceptance of the LGBTQ community in the present through August and her roommates and friends. The novel also highlights important aspects of LGBTQ history like the 1973 arson of the UpStairs Lounge, a historic LGBTQ social club/bar New Orleans, the most deadly attack on the LGBTQ community until the 2016 Pulse Nightclub shooting. Jane explains how her roommate was one of the 32 who died in this tragic accident. As Ilana Masad writes in a review for Bitch, “Jane becomes both a singular, unique person and an embodied artifact of queer history. As a kind of queer elder to August—and, by extension, to many readers—she’s able to take the new world in stride with as much dignity as she dealt with the hardships of her own time.” Jane, both stuck and moving through time, embodies queer history that may not be widely known. She educates August and readers on the shifting times—the heartbreak, community, loss, love, and resilience of the LGBTQ community—which makes this romance novel so much more than a moving love story between the two women. It’s a love story to the LGBTQ community over time. It’s also a love letter to the places that connect people and create community, from the subway to Pancake Billy’s House of Pancakes, where August works, to the UpStairs Lounge and Delilah’s, where August and her friends take in drag shows and jubilant gatherings of the LGBTQ community.

Reading One Last Stop was a fascinating experience, because I wondered how Jane and August would find their happy-ever-after or happy-for-now when Jane was stuck on the Q train. While this is an obvious barrier to their relationship, both women also grapple with internal issues that place their eventual union in jeopardy. The novel tips its hat to other popular time travel tales in its denouement, and provides a satisfying happy-for-now worthy of the journey.


By Dr. Jessica Lyn Van Slooten

Jessica Lyn Van Slooten is an Associate Professor of EnglishWriting, and Women’s and Gender Studies at the University of Wisconsin Green Bay. She teaches courses on women writers, gender and popular culture, romance writing, and more. Jessica has published numerous articles on teaching and assessing gender studies courses, and popular romance fiction and film. She is currently drafting a romance novel set in a small midwestern town.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *