ONE OF MY kids is dyslexic. Around the time of the diagnosis, about 12 years ago, a friend invited me to attend a lecture at the 92nd Street Y on the Upper East Side of Manhattan by a specialist named Mel Levine. Harvard-educated, a Rhodes scholar and a passionate advocate for children with learning differences (a term he preferred), Levine headed an institute called All Kinds of Minds that trained thousands of teachers to work with special-education students. I recall him as a dynamic, charismatic speaker, convincing in his very welcome argument that all children have strengths to build on, that in some ways it was our schools and our societal pressure to conform that were holding these young minds back. I remember being impressed - and not. I'd gone to the lecture against the advice of the learning specialist at my children's school, who thought Levine was a quack. I balked at the fees he charged to meet with patients one-on-one. But as a writer married to a writer, I was also horrified by the thought of our kid being locked out of a world of books. Others in the audience also had offspring with issues. The anxiety in the room was palpable. Levine seemingly had the power to give many parents cause for optimism. For some families, he was the only one left to turn to. As Emily Dickinson wrote, "Hope is the thing with feathers." In 2011, Levine committed suicide by shooting himself in the head after a class-action sexual abuse and malpractice suit was filed against him in Boston. He was accused of performing unnecessary genital exams on 40 boys over nearly 20 years, from 1966 to 1985. There is a Mel Levine-like character at the core of Carolyn Parkhurst's fourth novel, "Harmony," a moving and compassionate literary dive straight into the heart of a frantic parent. The book made me think about Levine, a guru capable, it seems now, of good and evil, though I'm not suggesting Parkhurst's Scott Bean, a parent-whisperer as well, is based directly on Levine. The world is full of people like this, eager to display and exploit whatever magnetizing talents they may have, people with a nose for the anguished and the vulnerable. And Parkhurst's Bean is oilier than Levine, without credentials or much of a consistent personal history. He's a gifted charmer of a low-rent variety, a man who advertises his services on bulletin boards: "Scott Bean, Harmonious Parenting," written sideways on tabs with a phone number. Alexandra Hammond, loving mother of two, is at her wits' end, desperate enough to take Bean's number and put it in her purse. Her eldest daughter, Tilly, an impossible-to-parent young teenager who appears to be on the autism spectrum, is as brilliant as she is socially awkward: She perseverates endlessly on the encyclopedia of obscure facts she carries around in her head, on subjects like Chinese food and statues. In an especially wrenching and frank sequence, the Hammonds struggle with her frustrated pleas for help in learning how to masturbate to orgasm. Parkhurst is a sincere and crafty writer. Alexandra's perspective on the grueling history of her efforts to care for Tilly is presented in the second-person present tense, yielding a shatteringly immediate portrait of two devoted parents as she and her lovely and equally strained husband exhaust the therapies and schools that have in turn exhausted them in their search for a safe space for Tilly to learn and mature. A telling scene occurs at a meeting to appeal the school board's decision not to pay for Tilly's private-school tuition: "You look at them across the table, these tired, skeptical women who work for the city (who are certainly decent people, fundamentally, and who probably never thought their jobs would entail denying therapeutic services to children who need them), and imagine telling them, ?This is a last resort - you know that, right?'" The marriage falters. The Hammonds' younger daughter, Iris, suffers. Tilly becomes a danger to herself. Enter Scott Bean, to the writerly equivalent of the theme from "Jaws." (The opening lines of the book are "In another world, you make it work. In another world, you never even hear the name ?Scott Bean.'") .Alexandra finds his sympathetic attitude irresistible. Lonely and desperate, she's willing to sign up for anything he has to offer. Alexandra's chapters fill in the novel's back story. Cleareyed, 11-year-old Iris, the family's well child, unfolds the novel's present action in alternating chapters, which take place at a bucolic New Hampshire hideaway designed by Bean to shelter families with hard-to-manage kids. The Hammonds are part of the "Core," a small group of families (some with children in far worse shape than the maddening and appealing Tilly) who give up their worldly possessions, buy him this camp and help refurbish it. They all agree to live somewhat off the grid, according to Bean's edicts: no electronics, alcohol or artificial anything, modern vices Bean believes may have contributed to their children's difficulties. They follow his teachings and practices, and help a series of paying families heal themselves by visiting Camp Harmony for weeklong sessions throughout the summer. In short, Camp Harmony, whatever its participants' initial intentions, has become a cult. After some very questionable behavior on the leader's part, a Core dad says to one of the children: "Scott's kind of our visionary here, and he's got his own ideas about things. And even if I don't always agree with him, I respect him and trust him completely." It's that kind of thinking that visits danger and dislocation upon the members of Camp Harmony. It's also that kind of thinking an outsider (and reader) may find hard to buy. But look at the world around us. People are buying this kind of nonsense all the time. "Harmony" is an intriguing book, although I'm not sure it's my kind of book: the sentences lack the architectural ingenuity that feeds my reading habit, and the adult characters, while full of angst, lack singularity. However, this is definitely somebody else's book and will probably find an avid readership. Parkhurst makes an impassioned case for understanding parents who are weary enough to turn their bank accounts, their children and their lives over to anyone who gives them faith, recognition, context, a blueprint for soldiering on. Perhaps it's my own feelings as a mother of a kid with learning issues that inform my responsiveness to the emotions so carefully laid out in this book. I found Alexandra's reactions touchingly real, even when they seem unreasonable. At one point, she shares her computer's search history, which is like seeing her "mind, all its secret curses rolled out flat, like a map." The list of potential treatments and cures is as painful as it is telling. "Bitter orange helps with sleep, but the N.I.H. says it isn't safe. Red and green natural clays have anti-bacterial properties and cleanse the body of yeast - but are you really going to feed your child clay? ... There's a man in Brazil who will perform long-distance ?psychic surgery' if you send him your child's picture. But even among respectable doctors and researchers, crazy things are being tested: fecal transplant and chelation, elective tonsillectomies and transcranial magnet stimulation. Electroshock. ..." The abyss beckons. "Stop," Alexandra writes, "before you get to ?lobotomy.' Stop before you start tying children to their beds." The drama Parkhurst promises in the prologue is played out to frightening effect in New Hampshire as Bean's tissue-thin patience, mental instability and lack of competence rupture the safety of the camp. The parents who would do anything for their children find themselves in their own passive haze, actually endangering their own children, to their terror and guilty consternation. But it's Tilly herself who gives something like the compassionate last word. Writing from an unspecified future, in several slim chapters scattered throughout the novel, from a place where she has apparently and thankfully survived her childhood, she has this to say: "It was a dark time ... when we marveled at the cruelty, but you had to take it in context. Given the challenges that 21st-century parents faced ... perhaps we could cut them a little slack. We have to believe that they were doing the best they could." Square peg in a round hole that she is, Tilly understands her parents' plight, a perfect model of empathy. In Parkhurst's novel, parents who'd do anything for their children wind up endangering them. HELEN SCHULMAN is the author, most recently, of "This Beautiful Life." She is working on a new novel and a story collection.

The author of two previous works of literary fiction with quirky characters and a mystery to solve (The Dogs of Babel; The Nobodies Album) stays true to form in her latest novel. The Hammonds, parents of two daughters-whip-smart, teenage Tilly, with an undiagnosed behavioral disorder, and loyal younger sister Iris-trade in a comfortable Washington, DC, lifestyle to invest all in a risky New Hampshire venture, Camp Harmony. The rundown summer grounds are owned by Scott Bean, a compelling, charismatic, special-needs guru whom -Alexandra, the girls' mother, met online. Narrated by the three female members of the family in alternating chapters that jump back and forth in time, the story maintains an air of suspense by letting readers know more than each character does individually. -VERDICT This blend of literary fiction and domestic suspense is an ideal choice for book clubs.-Laurie -Cavanaugh, Thayer P.L., Braintree, MA © Copyright 2016. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Parkhurst's (The Dogs of Babel) latest explores family bonds, modern-day parenting, and the foundations of cult-like groups, all with nuance and a liberal dose of dark humor. Alexandra and Josh Hammond are at the end of their rope with the diagnosis-defying behavioral issues of their 13-year-old daughter, Tilly, until Alexandra discovers the work of Scott Bean, an unorthodox child-development guru with a devoted grassroots following. Now Scott's invited the Hammonds-Alexandra, Josh, Tilly, and neurotypical younger daughter Iris-to move to a summer camp in rural New Hampshire for families facing similar struggles. At first, the idyllic setting, simpler routines, and Scott's charismatic leadership prove helpful for the Hammonds and the other families at the newly dubbed Camp Harmony. But as the veneer of Scott's public persona wears off, and a more controlling, volatile side begins to show, all of Camp Harmony's residents are forced to confront some harrowing truths about their situation. Told from the viewpoints of Alexandra, Tilly, and Iris, Parkhurst's memorable tale features a complex cast of characters and a series of conundrums with no easy answers. Book-discussion groups will be particularly interested in the tale's numerous deftly explored gray areas. Agent: Douglas Stewart, Sterling Lord Literistic. (Aug.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

*Starred Review* With one of those imprecise diagnoses that puts her somewhere on the autism spectrum, Tilly Hammond's unpredictable and inappropriate responses to situations make her an impossible student to guide through either a public- or private-school system. Homeschooling is an equally abject failure. Then her mom, Alexandra, meets Scott Bean, a charismatic, oddly childless child-rearing guru who is in the process of establishing a camp in New Hampshire where families like the Hammonds can get mutual support in an off-the-grid environment. Just like that, Alexandra, husband Josh, Tilly, and her younger sister, Iris, leave their comfortable Washington, D.C., home behind to become founding members of Camp Harmony, which, as it turns out, exudes anything but. Both Alexandra and 10-year-old Iris relate the family's journey with Tilly to a place that was supposed to be their salvation but, instead, threatened their survival in sinister ways. Parkhurst (The Nobodies Album, 2010) has always been able to delve into the complex world of parent-child relationships with an ease and authenticity that shimmers, thanks to its deft combination of humor and sensitivity. Since the author's own son has Asperger's, the story of Alexandra's desperate bid to create a safe environment for both daughters resonates with an even deeper level of emotional honesty.--Haggas, Carol Copyright 2016 Booklist