This book leaves a pit in your stomach in the best possible way. Atwood proved herself to be a chameleon in storytelling; the seamless shifting between mediums, the distinct voices, and the individuality of the characters- all of these made the story so visceral. I loved Iris because she was so flawed, and the conflicts she endured was so palpable. 

It takes a lot for me to feel the emotions an author intends with their work (part of the reason why I didn't cry over A Little Life), but the sense of languishing, regret, nostalgia, and exhaustion felt quite real in this one. The only reason I won't be giving it five stars is because it dragged on for quite a bit. But other than that, it's the kind of novel I'll be thinking about for some time.