On a Wing and a Prayer

THE BIBLE SALESMAN

By Clyde Edgerton

Little, Brown. 241 pp. $23.99

Since the publication of his first novel, Raney, in 1985, Clyde Edgerton has become as much a staple of Southern literature as sweet tea is to any meal south of the Mason-Dixon. He continues carving out this geographical niche with his new story about Henry Dampier, a 20-year-old Bible salesman and all-around naif who teams up with a car thief named Preston Clearwater. Preston, who has picked up Henry at the side of the road, convinces the young man that he works for the FBI and is part of an elaborate investigation that involves pretending he's stealing cars. Impressed, Henry agrees to help.

The ensuing road trip through the Carolinas and Georgia in 1950 highlights Edgerton's skill with the comic set-piece, as when a potential Bible sale turns into a gothic burial of a beloved pet, or when, in one of the novel's many flashbacks, a lady with a house full of cats named after biblical figures throws her voice, giving the illusion that her felines are talking. My favorite scene is when Henry asks two elderly sisters for a ride, and the oldest, Miss Sarah -- a 91-year-old stroke victim unable to read the gas gauge -- insists on driving. In true comedic form, no one denies her the opportunity. The level of disbelief we're asked to suspend is sometimes overwhelming, but it's a credit to Edgerton's graceful touch that we're usually willing to play along.

Edgerton uses a free-floating point-of-view that alternates frequently among characters, sometimes from paragraph to paragraph, as well as a free-floating plot that isn't propelled forward by the traditional engine of conflict. The closest we get is Henry's ongoing struggle with contradictions he finds in the Bible, contradictions he uses to justify giving in to his urges, whether for whiskey or sex. Although the novel's flashbacks provide colorful anecdotes about Henry's past, they often feel disconnected from the main story.

They are, however, awfully good yarns. In this regard, Edgerton's novel is reminiscent not so much of Faulkner or Flannery O'Connor as of Charles Dickens's The Pickwick Papers, which is far more memorable for its character sketches than for its plot. In the same way, there are immense pleasures in the tales patched together in The Bible Salesman-- tales that could have been spun on the front porch of a late summer North Carolina night.

-- John McNally 's fourth book, "Ghosts of Chicago," a collection of stories, will be published in October.