The Cliffs: Reese's Book Club: A novel
REESE'S BOOK CLUB PICK • A novel of family, secrets, ghosts, and homecoming set on the seaside cliffs of Maine, by the New York Times best-selling author of Friends and Strangers
“A stunning achievement, and J. Courtney Sullivan’s best book yet. Sullivan weaves a narrative that’s fascinating and thought-provoking. I literally could not put this book down.”
—Ann Napolitano, New York Times best-selling author of Hello Beautiful
On a secluded bluff overlooking the ocean sits a Victorian house, lavender with gingerbread trim, a home that contains a century’s worth of secrets. By the time Jane Flanagan discovers the house as a teenager, it has long been abandoned. The place is an irresistible mystery to Jane. There are still clothes in the closets, marbles rolling across the floors, and dishes in the cupboards, even though no one has set foot there in decades. The house becomes a hideaway for Jane, a place to escape her volatile mother.
Twenty years later, now a Harvard archivist, she returns home to Maine following a terrible mistake that threatens both her career and her marriage. Jane is horrified to find the Victorian is now barely recognizable. The new owner, Genevieve, a summer person from Beacon Hill, has gutted it, transforming the house into a glossy white monstrosity straight out of a shelter magazine. Strangely, Genevieve is convinced that the house is haunted—perhaps the product of something troubling Genevieve herself has done. She hires Jane to research the history of the place and the women who lived there. The story Jane uncovers—of lovers lost at sea, romantic longing, shattering loss, artistic awakening, historical artifacts stolen and sold, and the long shadow of colonialism—is even older than Maine itself.
Enthralling, richly imagined, filled with psychic mediums and charlatans, spirits and past lives, mothers, marriage, and the legacy of alcoholism, this is a deeply moving novel about the land we inhabit, the women who came before us, and the ways in which none of us will ever truly leave this earth.
“A stunning achievement, and J. Courtney Sullivan’s best book yet. Sullivan weaves a narrative that’s fascinating and thought-provoking. I literally could not put this book down.”
—Ann Napolitano, New York Times best-selling author of Hello Beautiful
On a secluded bluff overlooking the ocean sits a Victorian house, lavender with gingerbread trim, a home that contains a century’s worth of secrets. By the time Jane Flanagan discovers the house as a teenager, it has long been abandoned. The place is an irresistible mystery to Jane. There are still clothes in the closets, marbles rolling across the floors, and dishes in the cupboards, even though no one has set foot there in decades. The house becomes a hideaway for Jane, a place to escape her volatile mother.
Twenty years later, now a Harvard archivist, she returns home to Maine following a terrible mistake that threatens both her career and her marriage. Jane is horrified to find the Victorian is now barely recognizable. The new owner, Genevieve, a summer person from Beacon Hill, has gutted it, transforming the house into a glossy white monstrosity straight out of a shelter magazine. Strangely, Genevieve is convinced that the house is haunted—perhaps the product of something troubling Genevieve herself has done. She hires Jane to research the history of the place and the women who lived there. The story Jane uncovers—of lovers lost at sea, romantic longing, shattering loss, artistic awakening, historical artifacts stolen and sold, and the long shadow of colonialism—is even older than Maine itself.
Enthralling, richly imagined, filled with psychic mediums and charlatans, spirits and past lives, mothers, marriage, and the legacy of alcoholism, this is a deeply moving novel about the land we inhabit, the women who came before us, and the ways in which none of us will ever truly leave this earth.
BUY THE BOOK
Community Reviews
Finished the book which was our book club pick and liked the ghost storyline during the October timeframe. I don't feel satisfied at the end of the book. Some of the content on native americans and colonial settling was boring or went on too long but haven't read much historical fictional on this era so I'm glad I got re exposure. Still not sure I know what happened.
I picked up The Cliffs for a book club and ended up listening to the audiobook, which was a smart move for this kind of story. The cast includes Kimberly Farr, Tanis Parenteau, Emily Lawrence, Brittany Pressley, and Cassandra Campbell. The production is clean, the performances are emotionally grounded, and the pacing works even when you crank it up. I listened at 2.15x and never lost the thread. Two things I wish had been different:
I wanted a male narrator for the male voices.
I really wanted the book to commit to full-cast style so each narrator spoke their own lines regardless of POV. Given how much the novel plays with perspective, that would have elevated the listening experience.
Let me say this plainly. The house is the main character. If you love research, archives, and piecing a place together through time, this book is catnip. As someone who has fallen down the rabbit hole researching my own historic home, this hit the exact nerve. The way the story uses first-person histories, artifacts, and the land itself to peel back layers of the past is the kind of slow-burning I savor. When Jane thinks, "A fear tugged at Jane’s pocket, whispering that she had only wandered temporarily into somebody else’s lovely life,” I felt that in my bones. That line captures the uneasy thrill of trespassing in history, and the way this book keeps asking who really belongs to a house and who is only passing through.
Now the prickly bits. The novel tackles colonization, racism, genetics, child death, gentrification, and genocide. I agree with the author’s moral stance, but I prefer when a story trusts me to arrive there. At times, I felt spoonfed the “right” take instead of being led to it through scene, character, and subtext. I also never fully clicked with the people on the page. That might be intentional, but my emotional investment stayed with the research itself and the voices from the past rather than with Jane and the contemporary cast.
I had a full-body reaction to Genevieve’s gut reno. As someone who cares about preservation and restoration, my heart sank at every glossy, character-stripping choice. You cannot replace old-growth wood, hand-carved trim, and period techniques with something off the shelf and call it even. Once it is gone, it is gone. So yes, I was muttering, "Get your hands off that newel post," more than once. The book absolutely nails how a place can be spiritually and historically vandalized while still looking expensive.
Even with my quibbles, The Cliffs worked for me because of its scope and its commitment to place. I loved how the novel braids personal wreckage with the wreckage left behind by history, how the coastline and that lavender Victorian become a ledger where losses and loves are recorded. The psychic mediums, charlatans, sailors, Shakers, and archivists all orbit the same center. Some threads feel longer than they need to be, but the payoff is that lived-in sense of continuity. By the end, it felt like standing in a quiet room and finally hearing all the voices at once.
If you go in expecting a propulsive thriller, you will be restless. If you show up ready to sift, listen, and let the house talk, this is deeply satisfying. This book is for anyone who has ever argued with a contractor about keeping the original floors, and for readers who believe that stories pool in the corners of old rooms and wait for the right person to notice.
https://cerebralspice.wordpress.com/2025/08/18/book-list-the-cliffs-by-j-courtney-sullivan
I should have followed my 100-page rule and stopped then. This books was not for me, primarily because of Sullivan's writing style. I regret spending so my time reading it.
I should have followed my 100-page rule and stopped then. This books was not for me, primarily because of Sullivan's writing style. I regret spending so my time reading it.
Review of The Cliffs by J. Courtney Sullivan
There is much to admire in The Cliffs, particularly its attention to a house and the land it occupies along the Maine coast. The sense of place is vivid and compelling. Jane is a strong, well-drawn character, and her struggle with alcoholism is handled with sensitivity and emotional depth.
However, the novel ultimately lost me with the inclusion of the story of Kanti waiting by the cliffs, a narrative presumably passed to François by his grandfather and presented as an Abenaki account of history. It is not, in fact, an Abenaki telling. Sullivan offers no indication that she consulted or spoke with Abenaki people, yet the story is positioned as an Indigenous perspective.
The later introduction of an Abenaki character at the end of Naomi further compounds this issue and feels presumptuous rather than respectful. Writing imagined Abenaki histories and inserting Abenaki characters without clear engagement, consultation, or acknowledgment crosses an important line. This kind of narrative appropriation functions as a continuation of colonization rather than a meaningful act of inclusion.
See why thousands of readers are using Bookclubs to stay connected.