I enjoyed the book but I'm afraid my fellow book members did not.

it was a slow read felt I had to finish for discusion for book club.

First, I love the way the narrative is shaped, the writing is exquisite, and there were so many little thought discoveries along the way. At the conclusion, however, I wasn't sure where it had taken me. I took a vacation, I had a lovely time, I'm not sure where I went.
One moment that I found so resonant was Mrs. Flett's theory regarding her depression/nervous breakdown:
"You think she'd be scared to death by the state she's in, but she's not. Her hair's matted, her fingernails broken, her house plants withered, her day-to-day life smashed, but sleeping inside her like a small burrowing creature is the certainty that she'll recover."
I'm not sure that during my serious bouts with anxiety, that I was always certain I'd recover, but there was a well of some kind that could be tapped often enough to keep pushing on. With all the tragic events in the news of persons choosing to end their own lives, one wishes they could have felt their problems temporary and surmountable.