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.
Rich with ghosts, and its message is that some day we might be forgotten, but who we are and what we do never truly vanishes from this world ... It's a lot for one novel to carry, and at times it feels like too much. But mostly, it works, and at times it works beautifully ... A slow read ... A full, rich novel, a blend of history, mythology, psychology and story, and if it veers into preachiness at times that can be forgiven; Sullivan is clearly fervent about her material.
Sullivan’s historical research yields numerous sections with substantial depth. This is one of the pleasures of reading Sullivan’s novels: getting to know interestingly flawed characters in richly composed settings ... In a way, Sullivan’s sensitive portrayals of these demonstrate the power of reading fiction: how it can bestow both compassion and resilience on a reader. Alongside a character and at your own pace, you navigate through hard times. There is a great deal more hope here than sadness. In stories lost and then found, what you are able to salvage is all the more precious.
