Evil is a large word. There should be a smaller term to describe the form of malevolence that sits at the kitchen table and indulges itself in the familiar dialectic: indignantly self-pitying sulk...lashing violence...remorse in the morning. Repeat.
In Anna Quindlen's third novel, Black and Blue (Random House; 293 pages; $23), the former New York Times columnist has caught the evil essence. If its moment should prove to be right (a long shot, to be sure), the novel is good enough to become to domestic violence what Uncle Tom's Cabin was to slavery--a morally crystallizing act of propaganda that works because...
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