Author Bruce Holsinger’s novel, “Culpability,” boasts several unique features, all of which are very effectively conceived and even more effectively executed. Reviewers are often asked to place a given book in a particular genre. But “Culpability” fits securely and comfortably in three different genres.

One is “family drama.” The entire novel offers information about the adventures, tribulations, sadness, and love that characterize the Cassidy-Shaw family. The second, every bit as significant as the family theme, is the character study. And in this novel, unlike others, we are offered deep and detailed character studies, not about one main member of the cast, as is usually the case, but about all five family members. The studies are, in each case, complete and detailed. We learn all about the strengths, flaws, concerns, wishes, and hopes of each one as pile upon pile of unfortunate events overwhelm them — some of those events resulting from outside problems over which they seem to have little or no control, and some of them due to the various character flaws from which each family member suffers.

The third genre is perhaps one on which some readers will disagree with my categorization. But in my opinion, the element of suspense is clearly contained in the novel’s plot development. Now it is certainly true that this novel would not at first glance seem to fit the suspense genre. There are no bloody intentional murders, no lawyers or investigators (other than Morrissey) trying to track down clues regarding “who-dun it,” (the murder, that is) and no big denouement and climax wherein all the suspense is finally solved, and the villain is brought to justice.

The suspense here is instead presented rather subtly and quietly as we wonder whether one individual is going to face the consequences for a tragic car accident. The accident occurs while the family’s eldest child, Charlie, is driving to a planned family vacation spot. Noah, the dad, is riding shotgun, busy with his work responsibilities. Lorelei, the mom, is in back with the girls, Alice and Izzy, working on her laptop. The car is driving autonomously, a feature on which Lorelei had insisted. Charlie is texting as the car drives itself. Obviously, he’s supposed to be keeping his eyes on the road. Suddenly, Alice screams, “Charlie, Stop!” Charlie grabs the wheel and turns it, but in doing so, he disables the car’s self-driving mechanism. The horrendous result is that a car which is coming in the opposite directIon is hit head-on, and the two senior citizens in the car are instantly killed as a fire breaks out. The family is stuck in the car. But Noah, the only one who isn’t seriously injured, manages to get them all out. Their lives are all in danger, but they survive, spending very long times in a miserable recovery.

Now that we have seen the details of one of the tragic events which have come the family’s way, here are important details regarding the genres presented earlier, all of which arise from the accident: First, the family drama. The Cassidy-Shaws, as we’ve seen, are comprised of five fascinating people. The first person narrator, who tells the story in the present tense, thereby adding to the drama, is Noah Cassidy, a corporate attorney at a mid-level law firm. Noah makes a decent salary and is happy in his job. He is the emotional foundation upon which the family generally depends. He’s usually calm and assured but hasn’t actually been tested in potentially terrible situations. He’s also quite insecure, and for good reason: Lorelei, his wife, is a genius.

One of her many interests is the world’s scary direction regarding AI dangers, dangers to which the majority of leaders and common folk seem to be oblivious. Taking advantage of her huge intellect, she travels the world giving lectures and working as a consultant to some of the most influential and wealthy companies and institutions, many of which compete for her services. So she makes a lot of money. And that’s a gross understatement. She’s also a fine, understanding individual and a good mom. In short, she’s almost perfect. Noah, therefore, exists in her shadow. But he seems not to mind. They’ve had a longstanding love affair, and if he is rather insecure about her intellectual superiority, he does not allow it to interfere with their relationship. They’ve loved each other since the day they met.

Their children are also a fascinating group. The eldest, Charlie, has led an almost perfect life. He’s gorgeous, muscular, confident, and extremely athletic. Everybody’s dream. And he’s about to begin his college career at the University of North Carolina, where he’s predicted to emerge as the outstanding player on the lacrosse team. The next child is Alice, a dour and unhappy mid-teen who’s jealous of both her siblings. She suffers from middle-child syndrome, big time. She’s also desperately short of friends. The only one with which she communicates regularly is simply a texting friend. But the friend is not really very friendly; she’s in the habit of calling out Alice’s flaws, and though her observations are correct, she doesn’t take responsibility for the function of a true friend: to make Alice feel better about herself and her life. And the youngest child is Izzy, the happiest, liveliest pre-teen in existence. Everybody loves her. Everybody except Alice, of course.

All those protagonists are joined in the cast by two minor characters who do play important roles in the story as the plot and the suspense unfold. One is Morrissey, a cop/investigator who’s rather like a female Columbo. She insists that she’s just trying to get all the facts together, but we’re sure that her real mission is to determine the person who was the main cause of the accident. She’s pretty sure it’s Charlie, and she’s equally sure that he should face appropriately severe punishment for his crime, which is vehicular homicide. In the process of her investigation, she manages to make the entire family feel guilty and to scare them all while making their lives even more awful than they already are since the accident.

The second minor but important character is one Daniel Monet, the owner of the property on which the family is “vacationing.” He’s one of the richest men in the world. And he makes sure that every person with whom he makes contact is quite aware of that fact. Monet is boastful, greedy, arrogant, and dismissive of anyone who is not a billionaire. He also has a beautiful young daughter who falls in love with Charlie. Bad situation from the get-go.

So we already have a fragile and dangerous set of circumstances, all of which contribute mightily to the suspense, which builds unsparingly as the novel progresses. Will Charlie be charged? Convicted? Are there ANY extenuating circumstance? Is Charlie’s future crushed beyond repair? Can the family help him in any truly meaningful way? What if each of them claims their actions on that fateful day also contributed to the horror? Would that somehow make Charlie less guilty, legally or morally? All those questions and a hundred more haunt the entire family. Every single one of them.

On top of all that, Charlie’s love affair with Monet’s daughter Eurydice leads to still another potential tragedy. High on powerful drugs, the two of them decide to take a sail in the middle of the night despite warnings that a huge storm is on the way. They disappear. After a search using all of Monet’s people and rescue teams and all their available relevant equipment, the search feels helpless until they finally spot the boat — with only Charlie in it — in near-death condition. They rescue him, and he’s rushed to a nearby hospital. But there’s no sign of Eurydice. Everyone involved in the search believes she must have perished. Meanwhile, Charlie tests positive for the drugs they had taken, and everyone assumes he had provided them. Monet’s anger and hurt are overwhelming, and Charlie is once again the villain. He is now deemed responsible for the deaths of three innocent human beings.

That’s the last set of details I’ll provide. From that point on, Holsinger provides us with a series of climactic events and several twists that I, for one, did not see coming. At all. Those plot twists are similar to the ones that characterize virtually every suspense novel, the kind of clever devices that force us to look back and question ourselves. Why did we not pick up on the clues? They were right there in front of us. But a brilliant author can pull those tricks on us, and Holsinger certainly does not fail that test of brilliance. The whole novel, as a matter of fact, proves the author’s numerous talents decisively. “Culpability” is a piece of superb writing, and those who miss it are culpable of depriving themselves of a superb reading experience.

This review is based on the final hardcover book provided by Spiegel and Grau, the publishers, for review purposes.