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Sunday, July 20, 2003

By Michael Helfand

Here's one of those rare novels that work exceedingly well as crime fiction and as a philosophically sophisticated study of interpretation.

	"The Spinning Man" By George Harrar, Blue Hen Press ($24.95)

Like Umberto Eco's popular "The Name of the Rose," Harrar's novel is concerned with a crime and with how we "read" words, symbols of various kinds, and facts.

Harrar, like Eco, has studied semiology (the science of signs) and the modern language philosophers, but his learning, unlike Eco's, is worn lightly. Indeed, the book can be read purely as a dramatic portrayal of the effects of a criminal investigation on an individual, his family and the community.

Evan Birch, a professor of philosophy at Pearce College, becomes a suspect in a possible kidnapping and murder when his car is seen by a witness in a public park at the time of a 16-year-old girl's disappearance.

Birch, who is married and the father of twin sons Adam and Zed, 10, has led a respectable life but has, upon occasion, had relationships with female students. The story is told from Birch's point of view, and he maintains his innocence to the police, his family and his colleagues.

Things don't go well for Birch. There is the matter of circumstantial evidence. It turns out that lipstick, the same kind the missing girl used, turned up behind the back seat of Birch's car.

Although he claims he never met the girl, she comments on him in her diary and, it turns out, he did give her and three other girls a ride across campus in his car when they were attending a summer course at the college.

Birch does not help himself when he lies to the police at the beginning of the inquiry and, later, when he becomes uncooperative and hostile.

Ellen, Birch's wife, begins to suspect he may not be so innocent, especially since she knows of his involvement with other young women. His sons become distressed when they are taunted at school after a story is leaked to the press.

They become even more upset when their skeptical mother begins to question them about their father's whereabouts on the day the girl disappeared. Harrar's descriptions of the psychological and social tensions created by the crime and investigation are masterful.

More interesting is his exploration of what matters to members of the community as they ponder Birch's story.

How do they determine what is evidence and what weight do they give it? How important are Birch's history, his language and behavior, his scholarly interests? Does Birch, like his intellectual hero, Ludwig Wittgenstein, have a secret life?

The climactic conversation between Birch and Malloy is both a brilliant and surprising conclusion to all aspects of a very readable and thought-provoking novel.

Michael Helfand teaches English at the University of Pittsburgh.