How to be Good
by Nick Hornby
Riverhead

No, "How to be Good" is not set in a record store or on a soccer field, and it isn't about a grubby, grumpy guy. As we learn in the opening pages, the protagonist of Nick Hornby's latest tale is a woman who's been sleeping with someone other than her husband.

Turning the tables this way turns out to be a clever gamble. It's heartening to realize that the likable, masculine traits Hornby writes so perfectly wear as well on a female character as on a male.

As usual, Hornby commands such a fantastic turn of phrase that you'll likely find yourself nodding along vigorously to all the internal dialogue, whether or not you're a middle-aged British woman whose miserable, soul-sucking marriage has just taken a turn for the weird when her crank of a husband gets touched by a faith healer and decides he too wants to heal the world. The reason this novel (not to mention Hornby's whole career) works is that he accomplishes the charge that all writers are given: He delivers a message universal enough to transcend its packaging.

The packaging is nice, though. The rapid-fire marital dialogue is consistently realistic and bitingly funny. The basic conceit is a nice touch too. Taking on heavy issues like faith, religious sanctimony and the limits of love will take contemporary readers on a much more spiritual journey than they may be used to. The pleasingly entertaining story Hornby couches it all in makes him very much like a present-day Graham Greene for a readership that probably doesn't recognize that once-formidable name. That's just as well — every generation could use its own cheeky British soothsayer.

There are moments when this novel feels a little stale. Maybe it's just because female readers (like yours truly) grew used to falling in love with Hornby's patented diamonds in the rough; with a female protagonist daydreams accompanying reading just evaporate. But no matter. The book is still as near to perfection as you could ask for, provided your idea of book perfection is an engaging page-turner with characters you can identify with and an underlying message that's accessible but smart enough to surprise you when you need surprising.

A final thought on a final thought: The absolute weirdest moment in this book is its very last sentence. If you come to delight in this book for its un-cheesy love for humanity and near-religious embrace of hope and faith, its final moment might leave you scratching your head, or even tossing and turning that night. Then again, maybe that's the idea.

— Katie Haegele (katehaegele at hotmail dot com)