People sometimes get upset about works of nonfiction that address painful matters. "Can't we talk about something more pleasant?" This is--especially--a response to true crime. There is always a NYT reader, sniffing, opining in the comments section: "What is wrong with people who would buy that sort of book?" As if an interest in human behavior is a bad thing. "Hidden Valley Road" is--maybe--a "tough sell." Here's the story. A Catholic family has twelve children. Twelve! Six of the children become schizophrenic. One attempts suicide at the age of twelve, then again, then, later, again, as part of a marital "murder-suicide." Another tries murder-suicide only once, and succeeds. The family has not one, but two, sons who commit incest-pedophilia-rape. Daughters are shipped far away. One son strips nude in polite company. Cats are killed. Dinner plates are smashed against walls. The book begins with an Anne Tyler qu...