Books: When The Outrageous Is the Norm THE HOUSEGUEST

A June Sunday dawns at Doug and Audrey Graves' summer house, which sits on choice island property that has been in Doug's family for three generations. Doug, 54, is spending the weekend at this retreat, away from the city where he desultorily practices law and enthusiastically philanders. Audrey, 51, ensconced for the season and steadily tippling vodka in the privacy of her own bedroom, feels a bit edgy over the arrival, a week earlier, of their unprepossessing son Bobby and the stranger he introduces as his new wife. Audrey wonders whether Lydia, nee Di Salvo, the daughter of a prosperous private trash collector, will be able to live up to the lofty standards of manners and deportment that prevail in the Graves family. Still, the weather is sunny and warm enough to soothe implicit tensions. And everyone is looking forward to another marvelous breakfast prepared by the houseguest of the past week, Chuck Burgoyne.

Nothing in this scene overtly suggests the imminence of comic catastrophe. But experienced readers of Thomas Berger will immediately put on their crash helmets and fasten the safety belts. Newcomers are advised to follow suit. The Houseguest, Berger's 15th novel, picks up some of the pieces scattered by the explosive anarchy of his Neighbors (1980). Once again, an apparently stable domestic setting warps and buckles into chaos, and kindred characters struggle to adjust to a world in which the outrageous has suddenly become the norm.

The first thing that goes awry this fine Sunday morning is that Chuck oversleeps, leaving the promised breakfast unmade and each of the Graveses peckish and unsettled. When he finally appears, the man who has so far embodied "Doug's idea of a perfect houseguest in all ways" behaves oddly. He takes advantage of a moment alone with Doug to confide that one of Doug's recently ditched mistresses has been threatening to make trouble, but then assures his host, "This is something that requires no effort at all on your part. I'll see it's taken care of."

Chuck's information leaves Doug profoundly embarrassed and a little confused: "With all respect to the young man, it did not seem right that he would assume authority in this matter." Indeed, the effrontery rapidly escalates. Before long, Chuck is in Doug's bedroom demanding a signed blank check and displaying (accidentally?) a holstered revolver strapped around his ankle. Doug is shaken by this experience. "How's that for a Sunday at the shore?" he complains to his daughter-in-law. "You can get your head blown off for no reason, by a houseguest you don't even know."

It turns out that none of the Graveses has invited Chuck; each assumes that he is another's friend. By the time they make this discovery, though, it may be too late. Having committed improprieties ranging from theft to sexual assault against individual family members, Chuck seems to be planning something supremely unpleasant for the Graveses as a group. Both phone lines are mysteriously out of order, and neither of the two cars on the isolated premises will start. What is to happen when night falls?