An Under the Volcano for Middle America, here located somewhere in upper New York state, a small town where Russ Simpson, former high school football star, is failing to make a go of his endlessly re-mortgaged farm. He spends the weekends in the bar with his old classmates, squandering his badly-needed money on rounds for the house, endlessly reliving the golden afternoon he scored four touchdowns with the increasingly narrow circle of people willing to listen to him; sleeping it off in his own cow ham, or, more rarely, with his old mistress (the whore with a heart of you-know-what) whose kid is very probably his. His wife Cathy, is certainly the wet dream of Nixon fans across the land: loyal, hardworking, forgiving, wiping her hand across her husband's sexist brow as she mutely understands the things he feels but somehow cannot say. As befits this first novel, the ending is pure slop, as Russ cashes it in via auto suicide to give the lovely lady at home insurance money so she can live happily ever after. The style, such as it isn't, typifies the kind novice writers reserve for those they consider the inarticulate-sensitive, distinguished mainly by a dropping of the ""g"" from present participles, and the substitution of ""He'd'a"" for ""He would have.