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Anne MendelsonMort Zachter's small, wry memoir suggests that with the right sort of talent a man can not only rob and ill-treat his nearest and dearest, but also convince them it's his just prerogative…In the end, the only score-settling he can accomplish is to break the family cycle of workaholism. It takes him six years, but he finally gives himself the leisure to sit down and recreate both his childhood world and his adult truth-seeking. The result is a memoir that is as miraculously loving and nonjudgmental as it is cleareyed.
—The New York Times