Books: A Generation of Vipers THE RED WHITE AND BLUE

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Bro's and Leah's splashy assassinations at the hands of a crazed Viet Nam veteran are a navigational point in Broderick's looping narrative. His delivery owes something to Raymond Chandler, but rather than plot there is a proliferation of character and incident that builds to an ugly and violent mood. Dunne is a masterly setter of scenes and a merciless satirist, whether the target is an incontinent captain of industry or a criminal who has been packaged as a black revolutionary and needs an investment adviser: "The Merc and I were thinking more along the lines of Ornstein and Shay. Tax specialists . . . Estate planning. Top litigators. On the civil side, of course."

The Red White and Blue is an excellent example of Randall Jarrell's definition of the novel as a long narrative that has something wrong with it. Tightly made in its parts, the book sags as a whole. Dunne, a journalist and, with Wife Joan Didion, writer of such filmscripts as A Star Is Born and True Confessions, seems to have put his notebooks, filing cabinet and even his sock drawer to good use. His descriptions of courtrooms and Hollywood living rooms suggest nimble legwork and a fine ear. Agent to agent: "You can say what you want about communism, but those boys know how to structure a deal." A caterer on the subject of specialty bar mitzvahs: " 'Mr. Wonderful' is one of our biggest themes . . . Of the traditional variety. Top hat, white gloves." There are even old jokes. Broderick: "What's real money to the rich? she would ask. Usually in bed. A dollar ninety-eight, I would say. Talk of money always made me uncomfortable."

Now, that really is rich, coming from a character who is completely at ease gabbing about his wife's gynecological problems, body dumps in Central America and the step-by-step procedure of killing a man in the gas chamber.