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Last night I finished "Purity" by Jonathan Franzen, and now I'm having withdrawal symptoms. It's probably not the Great American Novel that he perhaps intended it to be - i think it's too embedded in our time for it to be relevant beyond one generation - but I loved it. I found a character who reminded my (disturbingly) of myself, another that perhaps made me understand my mother, and some fun visits to a Bolivian jungle and Stasi East Germany.