BOOK REVIEW : ‘The Way Men Act’: Satire Rises to the Bait : THE WAY MEN ACT <i> by Elinor Lipman</i> ; Pocket Books $20; 305 pages

Melinda Le Blanc is proud to be a native of Harrow, a New England college town that became astonishingly trendy during the 10 years she was away in California. The trees change color and the parking meters still take nickels, but in all essential respects, Harrow rivals Brentwood.

Main Street merchants who used to sell hardware and work boots, oatmeal and iceberg lettuce have gone up-market with pasta machines and cross trainers, shiitake mushrooms and arugula. The folks who lived in the old Victorians have sold out to people who paint them in seven subtle colors. There’s espresso at the lunch counter, and frequent poetry readings at the bookstore. Everyone talks about the quality of life, which has miraculously improved without any of the downside; it’s part of the reason Melinda returned.

The main character of this back-to-her-roots novel is a great-looking single woman of nearly 30, survivor of a relationship that eventually went nowhere. Melinda is a heroine of the 1980s who never expected the ‘90s to be here quite so soon. By this time, she had planned to be a wife and mother. Instead, she’s trying to figure out why girls with a quarter of her looks and half her intelligence wound up as both, and she, the belle of Harrow High, as neither. Surely choosing not to attend college can’t have been the whole answer.

For whatever reason, she’s temporarily living in the family house and working in her cousin Roger’s flower shop as chief designer, a job at which she excels. Melinda’s prose style, like her floral arrangements, is relaxed and contemporary; even a bit thorny, suiting a life that’s far from ideal and shows no signs of improving in the immediate future.

Libby Getchel, another returnee, has become Melinda’s best friend by default. Libby has taken the store one door away for her dress studio and is struggling to lure the faculty wives of MacMillan College out of their kilts and T-necks and into something more fashion-forward. It’s an uphill battle, and Libby and Melinda discover they have more in common than they imagined when they were in high school.

Between their shops lies Brookhoppers, the epitome of Harrow’s new mood. Brookhoppers is a fly-fisherman’s paradise, almost a club for enthusiasts of this elegant sport. The store is run by Dennis Vaughan, one of the town’s few young bachelors. He’s charming, urbane and, incidentally, black; this last quality lending “The Way Men Act” more complexity than it otherwise might have.

Inevitably, Melinda and Libby become rivals for Dennis’ affections. Although a few other candidates emerge from the wings, none is quite in Dennis’ league. Apart from some natural interracial trepidation about becoming involved with either woman, Dennis has not yet recovered from his recent divorce from a stunning social scientist.

Although his ex-wife, Iris, is of the same race, she decided after a few months of marriage that she wasn’t of the same sexual orientation, a marital history guaranteed to make any man wary of commitment.

Matters grow considerably more complicated once Melinda and Libby realize that they’re competing for Dennis’ favor, a circumstance calculated to strain any friendship. The convolutions multiply when Iris becomes Melinda’s friend and Libby’s client; they become further entangled when a new man appears on the scene with everything to recommend him except one unfortunate fact: Ian Kornreich has been unjustly suspended from his teaching job at MacMillan for sexual harassment.

Apparently under-plotted at the beginning, “The Way Men Act” suddenly becomes exceedingly eventful. Fresh romance blooms on every page, as previously bland characters reveal unexpected depths of emotion and capacities for deception. Lipman not only manages to sort out these various strands to the satisfaction of her characters but also succeeds in explaining the mystique of fly fishing, no small job when you’re simultaneously satirizing life in a college town.

Next: Carolyn See reviews “New Ghosts Old Dreams: Chinese Rebel Voices,” edited by Geremie Barme and Linda Jaivin (Times Books).