“Give me a hero, and I’ll write you a tragedy.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald There’s an image of Tony Soprano, the patriarch of the North Jersey crime family, that is embedded into my brain: crouched in a swimming pool, gold necklace dangling around his neck, with a big cigar sticking out of his mouth, his cool, dark eyes are fixed upon us. They are taunting the viewer, as if to say, “Yeah, I’m the bad guy, but you’d trade places with me in a heartbeat.” Truth be told, I’m not even entirely sure if the photo is meant to be a representation of the mafia don or a promotional photo of the actor James Gandolfini. Does it even matter? The two are now synonymous together. The fictional man who loved his family, but cheated on his wife and was a ruthless killer, who tried to get his head right by airing...