FICTION

SOUNDING THE WATERS by James Glickman (Crown: $23; 288 pp.). Glickman once studied under Robert Penn Warren, whose “All the King’s Men” remains the granddaddy of American political novels. Glickman’s debut, “Sounding the Waters,” is a more modest work--no rolling Southern cadences, no archetypal Huey Long figure--but it’s taut and involving, written so cleanly it squeaks, and definitely not a potboiler.

Bobby Parrish, lieutenant governor of a Midwestern state, is running for the U.S. Senate against a wily and well-heeled opponent. A boyhood friend, lawyer Ben Shamas, joins the campaign to escape the despair he’s been mired in since his daughter’s accidental death. Parrish’s wife, Laura, was Shamas’ first love; now, neglected by her husband, she flirts with Shamas again--one of several indiscretions (along with college drug use, post-Vietnam stress syndrome and a land deal from which Parrish’s sister profited) that the opposition is able to exploit. The battle of sound bites, wiretaps and dirty tricks in “Sounding the Waters” resolves itself satisfyingly, if a tad too neatly. Glickman is best at showing how the 1960s slogan “The personal is political” has been stood on its head. Today the political devours the personal: Even honest candidates, faced with media scrutiny, negative campaigns and a cynical yet naive electorate, have to wiggle and lie if they hope to win.