This book rewarded my persistence completely. My mind right now is scattered and craves the straightforward, so I was put off by how demanding it is to get oriented to the setting and characters here. So much about this book is, like the water reflecting on the ceiling of the house named in the title, refracted. It's not stream of consciousness, it's stream of setting.
The final third of the book is entirely satisfying. First, it entirely fulfills and subverts the regency romance novel in so many ways. Point of view. Plot. Characterization. And yet, this is a romance novel, and a very satisfying one. Second, it is in rich conversation with the novels of its timespan - the Jane Austen/Charlotte Bronte/Anthony Trollope eras. A female character speaks about "Emma" in the voice, perhaps, of the real-life sharp-tongued Jane Austen, saying that it is men who prefer the drawing room novel because they have the luxury of leaving it. How it nods to Trollope would take too long, but the final sentence of the novel mentions a Mrs. Poole living in Jamaica which I can only hope is a reference to Grace Poole's mother - she who takes care of Bertha in Rochester's attic.
Finally I love how this book is also sort of about reading novels: he analyzes his own character, characters analyze each other, and they even analyzed characters in books exactly the way we do in English class and book clubs. In class (I used to be a seventh grade English teacher), we make Venn diagrams about characteristics and in book club we imagine the characters to have fixed inner lives we can know by interrogating what they say and what others say about them. But this book says - no, characters have rich inner lives of their own, having nothing to do with author or reader, and our impressions should be as Miles and Caroline, taking pleasure in the reflection of the water on the ceiling. Ephemeral, precious, mysterious.