A big (800 pages), boisterous novel follows the lives of Bart Heacock and his son Tom over the years, and brings to it an abundance of energy- much of which is just plain animal spirits. Bart is a stallion of a man, successful (for most of his career) in business, with women, and only failing with Tom- an artist- who respects him but cannot give him the love the old man wants. Tom paints, and after Ann abandons him, spends two years in Rome-returns to a first New York showing and Ann- for whom Bart also makes a play. But Ann leaves them both, and Tom drinks his way out to the mesa -- and Carol, who joins him on the bottle but provides a companionship which ends in marriage. She is killed in an accident; Bart is broken, financially, and sent to jail; Tom wanders- and Bart becomes a real bum- and finally Tom heads south to Louisiana where there is Ginny, a second marriage, his return to painting and an exhibit, and a son.... Extroverted, explicit, this describes the many passions and tensions of two men-living it up across the country and back- in a prose which is at all times fecund. But there is certainly none of the bitter glamour which made The Beach House a best seller.