There’s Outlaws, and Then There’s Bad Guys : John Grisham’s latest novel offers a pretty realistic portrait of contemporary America : THE RAINMAKER, <i> By John Grisham (Doubleday: $24.95; 434 pp.)</i>

Nearly 3 million copies of this book, John Grisham’s sixth novel, are said to be print--enough to stock every Wal-Mart and convenience store in America, not to mention a bookstore or two. Before it’s all over, a few copies may even turn up at Joe’s Bar & Grill down at the corner, next to the beer nuts.

And all these places are exactly where Grisham’s latest should be. Because “The Rainmaker” is a Populist novel containing durable American themes: distrust of big business, paranoia about the federal government, the perfidy of lawyers, the power of love and the tarnished honor of gangsters. Moreover, many of the characters are recognizable to anyone who has spent time in the heartland: blue-collar workers hard up for luck, pompous and hypocritical pillars of the community and a fringe of riffraff in pursuit of a fast and not too legal buck.

As usual with attorney Grisham, the chief characters are lawyers of all ilks, from paleolithic ambulance chasers to high-tech dudes in starched shirts capable of selling their mothers and adulterating apple pie to win a case. Foremost among these is Rudy Baylor, a poor, struggling law student with no family except for a seldom-seen mother who roams the country in a Winnebago.

As graduation approaches, Rudy finds that the job he was promised with a small, boring Memphis firm has evaporated. Gone are his dreams of one day becoming a “rainmaker,” an attorney who brings in huge sums through legal savvy. His goldfish-sized firm, he learns, has been swallowed by the city’s legal leviathan, the firm of Tinley, Britt, Crawford, Mize & St. John, which has no need of middling, unconnected young lawyers. For Rudy, the merger is the equivalent of being nuked. Memphis has too many attorneys already. No other firm will hire him despite his groveling efforts to find a position.

Devastated, Rudy files for bankruptcy, is evicted from his apartment, studies for the bar, is nearly arrested for vandalizing the offices of Tinley, Britt and comes under suspicion for burning down another law firm, which tried to cheat him out of a promising civil case.

Now desperate as well depressed, Rudy goes to work for Bruiser Stone, a shady attorney with strong connections to the Memphis underworld, particularly the element operating Memphis’ proliferating nude bars. Conveniently, Bruiser helps Rudy beat the arson charge.

There is, of course, a price to be paid.

Besides criminal work, Bruiser specializes in personal injury cases. He soon has Rudy teamed with Deck Shifflet, who has flunked the bar exam six times and calls himself a “paralawyer.” Under the tutelage of Deck, Rudy learns how to troll a hospital injury ward for promising lawsuits. He also learns how to obtain the contractual signatures of clients while they are writhing in pain and strung up in traction.

Rudy recoils from his new trade but he has no options. Meanwhile, he learns the FBI has developed an intense interest in Bruiser. With no time to spare, Rudy and Deck grab their files and evacuate Bruiser’s strip mall office before a law enforcement task force stages a raid. Bruiser disappears, leaving behind rumors of a large stash of cash hidden somewhere in Memphis.

Through all these entanglements and diversions, Rudy steadfastly pursues the central issue of the novel, a $10-million lawsuit against an insurance company that refused to pay for the treatment of a leukemia patient. The insurance company, it turns out, is defended by Tinley & Britt, which only intensifies Rudy’s desire for justice. Rest assured that both the insurance company’s executives and their oh-so-dignified attorneys are scoundrels suitable for Attila the Hun’s social calendar.

“The Rainmaker” is more subtle and complex than any synopsis--and this is only a small part of it--can convey. Rudy, for instance, is essentially an American innocent who nonetheless relishes his friendship with shady characters and roots for Bruiser when he flees the Feds. Rudy also is capable of as many dirty tricks as his opponents. Many of the other characters, including minor ones, also are convincing, sketched with considerable skill.

But for my money, the complex plotting of “The Rainmaker” is Grisham’s major accomplishment. From arson to bone marrow transplants to the fine print of insurance contracts, he seems to have thrown everything into this book. But the result isn’t anarchic or confusing. In his loping, plain prose, Grisham handles all his themes with admirable and impressive dexterity and clarity. At the very least, this novel is great fun to read. Rudy is such a hard luck case you want to find out how much deeper he can sink into catastrophe.

Beyond its entertainment value, “The Rainmaker” can be read as portrait of contemporary America. Many of its characters are angry and feel betrayed by society. They live on the economic margins and don’t expect to ever do better. Others are cynical manipulators of the system--guys in suits who know how to bend the rules and take somebody’s last dime. The institutions are corrupt, incompetent or broke.

Yes, “The Rainmaker” is popular fiction, wildly successful popular fiction. But surprisingly, it is also a sort of manifesto about the United States at the end of the 20th Century. In particular, the novel is an indictment of the legal system from law school to the jury’s verdict. And in this era of the O.J. Simpson trial, many readers are likely to find chunks of “the Rainmaker” eerily familiar.