Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear Summary, Characters and Themes

Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear by Seanan McGuire is a surreal, emotionally resonant journey that charts the transformation of a girl named Nadya Sokolov as she is swept—both literally and metaphorically—into an underwater world where her differences are not just accepted but celebrated.  Born into rejection and shaped by abandonment, Nadya finds belonging not in the world that raised her, but in one born of watery magic, talking animals, and fluid rules of existence.

McGuire crafts a world where rivers breathe, forests whisper truths, and identity is shaped by choice as much as by circumstance.  Through trials and quiet victories, Nadya claims a new identity beyond the confines of pity or expectation.

Summary

Nadya Sokolov’s life begins with a harsh rupture—abandoned at birth by her teenage mother in a Russian hospital, left unnamed and incomplete, with only a stump where her right hand should be.  The institution that takes her in names her Nadezhda, meaning “hope,” but the kindness is more bureaucratic than emotional.

Raised in an orphanage, Nadya learns to navigate a world that sees her as incomplete.  She becomes clever, observant, and fiercely self-sufficient.

Her empathy shines through in her care for a dying tortoise, Maksim, who she nurses back to health and eventually rehomes, even though she remains behind, unchosen and unseen.  At nine years old, Nadya’s life changes when American missionaries, seeking children with disabilities to adopt, bring her to Denver.

There, her new parents attempt to shape her into someone who fits their idea of “fixed. ” They dress her in pink, fit her with a prosthetic arm, and expect gratitude.

But Nadya, never ashamed of her body, resists their reshaping efforts quietly, holding onto the self she knows to be real.

In a moment of private rebellion and frustration, Nadya finds herself beside a pond.  She falls in—and surfaces in a different world.

The forest is damp, alien, alive with oversized flora and magical creatures.  Disoriented, she breaks down in tears, only to be comforted by Artyom, a talking fox who becomes her reluctant guide.

Artyom teaches her survival—what to eat, where to walk, whom to fear.  His words are barbed with truth: this world has its own rules and dangers, and Nadya is not its center.

Yet he leads her toward the River Wild, where she finds people from a submerged city—Belyyreka—who recognize her as “door-swept,” brought into their world through need and uncertainty.  They welcome her.

In Belyyreka, Nadya is gifted a magical water arm by the River Wild, an appendage that behaves like a natural part of her.  The city, built beneath layers of riverwater and stone, becomes her new home.

She finds family in Inna, a fisherwoman from Nadya’s old world, who adopts her with no conditions.  Nadya also bonds with a turtle named Burian, who becomes her companion and eventually her steed.

She thrives as a fisher, growing in skill, courage, and self-assurance.  Though some residents resent the swept-away children, Nadya wins respect through grit and compassion.

Her relationship with a boy named Alexi, once strained, warms into trust and eventually love.

As the years pass, Nadya becomes a scout, mapping unfamiliar terrain.  When she returns to the place of her arrival, she encounters Artyom’s grandson, who tells her the old fox has died.

The moment is tender and final, underscoring the passage of time and the transformation Nadya has undergone.  She is no longer the girl who fell sobbing into a forest—she is someone stronger, grounded in the bonds she’s built.

Nadya’s bond with Alexi deepens, and though they dream of different futures—his rooted in farming, hers in exploration—they share mutual respect.  Their marriage is simple and sincere, a reflection of the world they’ve built.

But peace proves fleeting.  A storm threatens the community, and Nadya, now a protector by nature, saves a farmer named Anichka from drowning.

This rescue reveals a new power: she summons a rope of water to pull herself and the woman to safety, a feat born from desperation and instinct.  This moment marks a shift—Nadya is no longer just living in this world, she is becoming part of its elemental fabric.

Determined to understand her place further, Nadya and Burian venture deeper into the flooded forest.  They find the River Winsome, where they face a monstrous frog—the very creature that long ago stole Nadya’s prosthetic arm and may have once destroyed a city.

Nadya fights back, wielding a water-forged sword to protect Burian, and wins, but the battle comes at a cost.  She is swept into a border current that separates rivers—and worlds.

When she wakes, she is back in her childhood body, gasping in the arms of rescuers from her old world.

Nadya is told she nearly drowned.  The pond has reclaimed her.

She remembers Belyyreka, Inna, Burian, Alexi.  But she knows that whatever brought her there, and whatever magic allowed her to stay, is now unreachable.

The world around her has not changed—but she has.  The memories are real, vivid, and defining.

Even if she cannot return, the world of water and wonder she lived in lives on within her, shaping who she is and who she will become.  The story ends with a sense of quiet loss and enduring strength—a girl caught between worlds, changed forever by the one she left behind.

Characters

Nadya Sokolov

Nadya is the heart of Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear, her journey encapsulating the raw pain of abandonment, the quiet strength of survival, and the slow, beautiful metamorphosis of self-acceptance.  Born in a Russian hospital to a mother who fled in horror at the sight of her daughter’s missing hand, Nadya’s life begins with rejection.

Yet, even in a world that views her as defective, she cultivates resilience.  Named Nadezhda—hope—by her caretakers, she navigates the orphanage with emotional acuity and quiet leadership, shielding her vulnerabilities while elevating others.

Her early bond with the tortoise Maksim becomes a metaphor for her character: nurturing, strategic, and sacrificial.  Though she engineers the tortoise’s adoption, she remains behind, always the facilitator of other people’s happiness, never the recipient.

When adopted by American missionaries, Nadya experiences the dissonance between perceived salvation and lived experience.  Her new life in Denver is laced with good intentions but marred by erasure.

Her adoptive parents, Carl and Pansy, force a prosthetic upon her, interpreting her limb difference as something to fix.  Nadya resists, quietly but powerfully.

Her refusal to conform, her insistence that her body is not a site of pity or repair, marks the beginning of her internal revolution.  This inner strength is what carries her into the magical world of Belyyreka, where she not only survives but thrives.

There, she is neither objectified nor fixed.  Her missing hand is replaced by a fluid, responsive limb made of water—symbolizing a perfect union between who she was and who she is becoming.

Nadya grows into a community leader, a beloved daughter, a fierce protector, and a partner.  Her development is not linear but deeply felt; she grieves, she rejoices, and she reclaims.

By the end of the novel, even after being cast back into the “real” world, Nadya remains transformed—imbued with the magic of knowing she once belonged fully.

Artyom

Artyom, the talking fox, emerges from the flooded forest like a creature from a fable—mischievous, philosophical, and emotionally astute.  He first appears to Nadya in her most vulnerable state, offering not just guidance but companionship tempered with realism.

Artyom is no saccharine sidekick; he is sharp-tongued and deeply aware of the forest’s dangers, unwilling to comfort Nadya with false promises.  His mentorship is riddled with tough truths—he tells her she may never return home, that not all who wander into the forest survive, and that heroism is often a myth.

Yet beneath his cynical exterior lies a profound understanding of displacement and loss.  In many ways, Artyom acts as a mirror for Nadya, voicing the fears she dares not name.

His teachings about edible mushrooms and survival are practical, but the emotional lessons—about self-determination, grief, and trust—are transformative.  Artyom’s eventual death, revealed through his grandson, marks the passage of time and the bittersweet nature of memory.

He lives on in Nadya’s choices, in her refusal to forget, and in the lessons she carries forward.

Inna

Inna represents unconditional love and chosen family in a way Nadya has never experienced before.  A fisherwoman who herself was once swept into Belyyreka, Inna becomes Nadya’s adoptive mother not through legal documentation but through empathy and shared history.

She is stern but nurturing, practical yet deeply intuitive.  Inna does not try to “fix” Nadya; instead, she empowers her by offering stability and mentorship.

She is the first adult figure in Nadya’s life who accepts her without condition, who sees her strength rather than her scars.  Their bond deepens with time, culminating in shared rituals, mutual protection, and emotional vulnerability.

When Nadya risks her life to save another, it is Inna who helps her recover—not just physically but emotionally.  She is a cornerstone of Nadya’s new world, anchoring her to a life where love is not earned through perfection but given freely.

Burian

Burian, the turtle who becomes Nadya’s companion and mount, begins as a quiet presence but grows into a symbol of loyalty, partnership, and inner strength.  Their bond echoes the earlier connection Nadya had with Maksim, but this relationship is deeper and more enduring.

Burian is steadfast, intuitive, and brave, reflecting Nadya’s own emotional arc.  He is the creature who does not speak but whose presence speaks volumes.

Together, they navigate dangerous waters, literal and emotional.  Burian’s evolution—culminating in his rider’s saddle and battlefield bravery—mirrors Nadya’s own journey.

When she saves him from a monstrous frog, it is not just an act of loyalty but a declaration of shared destiny.  Their final ride into the flooded forest is less a journey and more a declaration of who they are together: resilient, united, and determined to face the unknown.

Alexi

Alexi’s presence in Belyyreka brings complexity to Nadya’s emotional world.  Initially wary of her as an outsider, he represents the skepticism and territoriality of a community shaped by survival.

However, his arc mirrors Nadya’s in its subtle evolution—from mistrust to camaraderie to love.  Their bond is not one of sweeping romance but of slow, respectful understanding.

Alexi sees Nadya not as a broken outsider but as an equal.  Their partnership is marked by honesty, shared dreams, and differing desires: while he wants to farm, she thrives as a scout.

Yet their love accommodates difference.  Their marriage is quiet and grounded, an extension of their mutual respect and hard-won intimacy.

Alexi’s role may not dominate the narrative, but he is vital in showcasing Nadya’s capacity for love and partnership, and her right to claim happiness.

Artem

Artem, the grandson of Artyom, embodies the changed, less whimsical version of the world Nadya once found wonder in.  His warning that the flooded forest holds no magic for her anymore is not cruel—it is cautionary, tinged with the hard knowledge that not all who return are welcome.

He represents the shifting tides of time, the reminder that magic does not wait, and that belonging must be earned anew.  His brief appearance underscores the finality of Artyom’s passing and frames Nadya’s journey not as a return to a fixed fantasy but a constantly evolving relationship with space, memory, and selfhood.

Carl and Pansy

Carl and Pansy, Nadya’s adoptive parents in America, serve as well-meaning antagonists.  They represent the perils of performative compassion—the desire to help without understanding.

Their insistence on giving Nadya a prosthetic arm, redecorating her world in pink, and enrolling her in language classes reflect an intention to mold rather than nurture.  Their disappointment in her quiet resistance stems from a failure to accept her as she is.

While they are not malicious, they are emblematic of a society that prioritizes conformity over individuality.  Their story exists in contrast to Inna’s, revealing the difference between legal guardianship and true parental love.

Themes

Identity and Self-Acceptance

Nadya’s journey in Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear is marked by a continuous confrontation with how others perceive her versus how she perceives herself.  From the very beginning, her missing hand becomes a focal point of judgment, pity, or rejection—from her birth mother who abandons her, to the well-meaning but misguided adoptive parents who force prosthetics on her to normalize her appearance.

These external pressures attempt to overwrite her self-conception, reducing her to a symbol of deficiency or a project to be fixed.  But Nadya never internalizes their definitions.

Even when she is coerced into wearing a prosthetic arm, she resists it emotionally, recognizing that it distorts her truth rather than completing it.  The magical world of Belyyreka becomes a pivotal arena for affirming her identity.

In this fluid, underwater society, her difference is not merely accepted—it is transformed into a source of power and belonging.  The water-formed arm she receives is not a replacement but an embodiment of her evolution, allowing her to function authentically without denying her history.

Her resistance to erasure—whether cultural, physical, or emotional—emerges as an act of self-preservation and autonomy.  The final return to her original world, where no one believes her story and her identity is again at risk of being rewritten, underscores how fragile but vital the internal sense of self is.

Nadya holds onto her memories of Belyyreka not as fantasy but as lived truth, anchoring her in a version of herself forged through choice, courage, and clarity.

Belonging and Found Family

Nadya’s early life is defined by rejection and dislocation, beginning with the abandonment by her mother and later compounded by the disconnection she feels with her American adoptive parents.  While Carl and Pansy provide material stability, they fail to provide emotional resonance, treating Nadya more as a symbol of their charity than as a person with a unique identity.

Their attempts to mold her into a palatable, assimilated version of a daughter further alienate her, reinforcing her status as an outsider.  This estrangement continues until her passage into Belyyreka, a world whose rules operate on different currents—both literal and metaphorical.

Here, Nadya is not merely accepted but celebrated.  Her bond with Inna, the fisherwoman who adopts her, is built on mutual recognition rather than obligation.

Inna sees Nadya’s potential and strength rather than her needs or deficits.  Similarly, Nadya’s friendship with Burian, the turtle she raises, evolves into a familial partnership rooted in trust, care, and growth.

These relationships provide her with the sense of permanence and emotional resonance she never found in the outside world.  Even her rivalries transform into kinship, as shown in her reconciliation with the boy who once resented her presence.

When Nadya is finally honored in her community, not only for her bravery but for who she is, the affirmation is collective and authentic.  The community’s recognition is not ceremonial—it is emotional and real.

This created family, bound by experience and choice rather than blood or legal bonds, becomes the foundation of her identity and strength.

Autonomy and Resistance

Nadya’s life is shaped by the struggle to maintain agency in environments determined to impose identities upon her.  As a child, she learns to navigate the Russian orphanage by masking her difference and managing how others see her, already demonstrating a sophisticated awareness of power and visibility.

Later, in Denver, the battle becomes more explicit.  Her adoptive parents, despite their intentions, impose cultural, emotional, and physical standards that attempt to reshape her.

The prosthetic arm becomes a powerful symbol of this pressure—it is not a tool for her benefit but a marker of compliance with someone else’s expectations.  Her refusal to accept this imposition, even if quiet and internal, signals an early declaration of resistance.

In Belyyreka, Nadya exercises real autonomy for the first time.  She chooses her path as a fisher, selects her bonds, and determines her own value.

Her decision to venture into dangerous waters as a scout is not a reaction to obligation but a personal assertion of purpose.  Even her final battle against the monstrous frog reflects a refusal to be passive in the face of danger.

Nadya acts, not because others command her to, but because she chooses to defend those she loves.  Her magic—tied to the water, instinctive, and deeply personal—further reinforces this autonomy.

It is not granted or bestowed; it emerges from her own will and emotional clarity.  The story frames resistance not as rebellion for its own sake, but as the necessary stance of someone determined to be the author of her own narrative.

Transformation and Memory

Nadya’s transformation throughout Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear is physical, emotional, and existential.  Her physical changes—especially the acquisition of a magical, water-formed arm—mirror her deeper evolution from a rejected, controlled girl into a self-possessed young woman.

But transformation here is never solely about gaining power or recognition.  It is about the ability to live truthfully in the body and mind one has, without external distortion.

The world of Belyyreka, with its surreal, breathable rivers and talking animals, offers the surreal logic of a dream—but for Nadya, it becomes more real than any world she’s known.  The moment she returns to her original body and world, now a child again, the memories of Belyyreka threaten to evaporate like a dream upon waking.

Yet, they persist with clarity and weight.  The story’s treatment of memory underscores how personal truths can resist external invalidation.

No one else may believe Nadya’s story, but the emotional and spiritual reality of her experience lives on in her, reshaping how she will navigate the world ahead.  This contrast between the magical past and the mundane present poses an unspoken question about what transformation truly means.

Is it the external change or the internal realignment that defines growth?  Nadya’s memories are not burdens—they are her proof of selfhood, of love, of strength.

She is forever changed not because she wore a magical arm or fought a mythical beast, but because she remembers who she became when no one told her who to be.  The permanence of those memories is her final gift and her quiet triumph.