Not as soupy/soapy as the title would lead you to believe -- but another vulnerable, accessible if not too differentiated account of a man who had everything but drank himself to death, literally. From his Phi Beta Kappa key to his Purple Heart, his Harvard Law degree to his good Wall Street affiliation, Sean Mahoney had it really Established along with a lovely wife and four sons. Only the fact that his mother was an alcoholic (a 40 percent inheritance likely here) might explain the acceleration from fraternity social drinking at Williams to getting smashed on the job which he would lose with ""grandiosity"" -- one doctor's only amplifying psychological remark. A surprising book in some ways -- Mrs. Mahoney had the best New York and East Hampton life but it seems to have been singularly devoid of proper medical assistance (what little she got was slack) or literature (are library shelves that teetotal?) so she went her own way, doing her best to get legal aid (forget that organization) and keep her family together although she often drank along side of Scan sometimes out of fatigue, resentment or despair. Until he took his next drink which should have been his last many years earlier. Her account (women's magazine-ish) goes down just that easily too although its therapeutic value, except to her, is negligible.