Isolation is relative. Just ask Levi Abramson. He and his family--his brother Ben and their father and mother--don't really associate with the outside world any more than they have to. It's not a scandalous level of dissociation. Or even really noticeable. Just a general preference to do their own thing. And for all its imperfections, it's not terrible. After all, they have each other. This all changes when the patriarch, Samuel Abramson, decides to turn their home into the new family business: a pet funeral home and crematory. The cost of retrofitting the house with a cremation furnace forces them to become financially obligated to Levi's mysterious half-brother, Isaac, enacting a series of events that threatens their blissful isolation, and even plunges them into the spotlight when Ben becomes infatuated with a young rising star in local politics. In a world marked by competing visions for utopia--including a national network of free drug addiction rehabilitation facilities that offer their world-class services for only the price of a year-long voluntary commitment; a breakaway urban neighborhood built on the principles of simplicity and communal ownership, formed with the goal of ending commerce; and a college campus where the only rule is that one must study something that has never before been studied--Levi seeks the ideal of community, only to land further from the mark with each successive attempt. But the quest itself transforms him, to the extent that the brokenness he experiences gradually becomes something he embodies. When he finally finds himself worlds away from who he was as a boy--and doesn't recognize his family anymore either--Levi must find redemption in the midst of the despair so readily available.