In our current exhibitionist culture, in which “telling all,” and the squirt of fame it might bring, trumps old-fashioned dignity and that sacred thing that we once called “privacy,” Karen Propp somehow manages to create a shocking page-turner by doing just the opposite: writing about a deeply private thing — her husband’s indelicate fight with prostate cancer and their ultimately vain struggle as a couple towards trying to redeem some fragment of a sex life — with breathtaking integrity and modesty. Propp’s attentions are almo.st monastic in their simplicity, and she is so unspoiled that she puts the rest of LIS cranky coupled women to shame.