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I don't know when in this book I began to realize it wasn't about a bunch of f'd up lives. It was just about a bunch of lives and the people who inhabit them. The heroes are everyday heroes. The villains are people who have air pockets where they should have an affinity for the experience of being human. The losers are sometimes winners and the local idols have feet of clay. Everyone's vision is circumscribed in some way. Every one was making mistakes and some with more grace than others. Mary McGarry Morris must be a writer of astonishing skill to hold my attention long enough for me to get off my high horse and begin to care for these people. I suffered increasing anxiety wondering when this house of cards would tumble down. As the storytelling drew to an end, I felt I would miss life in this little burg; even as the voyeur I was. They live on, these characters, never completely defeated ... and we are their fully-formed descendants.