Simons Manigault, the indelibly-drawn narrator of Padgett Powell's acclaimed first novel "Edisto," published in 1984, comes crawling back for more in this sequel. An appropriate subtitle might have been "A Romance of Avoidance." Powell's hero, now freshly degreed in architecture, flees both Clemson University and his girlfriend, "nice white-Jewish Sheila." He seeks sanctuary from the expectations of lover, family, and self on the titular island home of his childhood, only to be steered by his assiduously dysfunctional mother into a tryst with his cousin Patricia. Incest, in theory and practice, is regarded in this book like some cosmic practical joke played on all Southerners. Prior to his transgression, for example, Simons observes of himself and his mother, "We would be lovers, were biology not considerably in the way."

Simons does find a perverse bliss with his father's sister's daughter. "I set to thinking about what I was going to do with myself, now that I apparently had a woman who knew what to do with herself." But, with another flimsy pretext at hand, he flees. He spends months in Texas "asphalt fishing" -- that is, working as a trucker for a seafood chain. Finally, Simons gets something like advice from his enigmatic boyhood friend and mentor, Taurus, which spins the story toward its conclusion. First, though, Powell delivers a portrait of Louisiana ("what would be left of the South after it has been nuked") that is gross, oddball, and right on the money.

In Simons Maginault, Powell has created a delicious literary oxymoron, the Modern Southerner. Hidebound by deplorable tradition and a barbaric past, scared shitless by a manifestly bankrupt future, he's got to get out of this place, but where can he go? The best he can manage is to crack wise at his ridiculous, inescapable way of life, and make allies of whoever laughs. Simon's tale this time out is shorter, tighter, and funnier than the one told in "Edisto," but it feels yet unfinished. I hope so. Further visits to Powell's eccentric Carolina coast would be truly welcome diversion.

--Ed Hall