More than 20 years ago, I read MANY MASKS, a biography of Frank Lloyd Wright by Brendan Gill, who was then a critic with THE NEW YORKER. This biography was an excellent chronological presentation of Wright and his achievements. But it never quite brought Wright to life. In contrast, THE WOMEN, T.C. Boyle's examination of Wright, certainly captures this famous architect as a character, who appears in this novel as charismatic, manipulative, narcissistic, scheming, and oddly susceptible to three strong but spiritual/romantic women, who shared what, in Wright's day, was a scandalous personal life. Once again, Boyle should get his due: He has persuasively brought a historical figure to life, just as he did with Alfred Kinsey, the sex researcher, in THE INNER CIRCLE.

In this case, Boyle finds a unique approach to Wright. In particular, he examines Wright through prisms of female confrontation that existed in three stages of his life. In Boyle's order, these are the confrontations between Miriam, Wright's estranged second wife, and Olga, who would become his third, in the early 1930's; between Miriam and Wright's mother, housekeeper, and Catherine, Wright's first wife, in the 12 years starting roughly with the Great War; and between Catherine and Mamah Cheney, Wright's lover, in the era of Wright's prairie houses.

To tell of these confrontations between the women, Boyle adapts a Harlequin romance tone. Examples include:

Olga in Part I: "Was going off with Frank Wright any different from going off with Gurdjieff--to dance, to serve, to absorb the radiance with her mouth, her fingers, her heart and mind and spirit? Or, was it simply a father she was looking for, a father to replace the one she'd lost? No matter, because there was one surety in all of this, one thing she knew without stint: he was hers..."

Miriam in Part II: "She felt it, the knowledge run through her like a long shiver, but she was there at the open casement, not fifty feet from him, and without thinking, she just opened her arms to him. `Frank,' she crooned, drawing out the single syllable in the continental way--`Frahhnnk'--and she watched his face change. `Come here. Come to me.'"

Catherine in Part III: "She couldn't abide the moment, couldn't live through it and keep her sanity--because if it was true, and she was testing him, pressing him, forcing him out into the open--she'd kill herself. Shriek till the shingles fell off the house and run howling down the street to throw herself..."

From the author's point of view, this tone certainly makes sense. There are, after all, hundreds of books about Wright and centering his book on Wright's women gave Boyle an unusual approach to this subject. Even so, this melodramatic style makes this novel a consistently irritating read, a miasma of run-on thoughts and overwrought emotion. Of course, it's a matter of taste. But the writing made me yearn for the terse and understated Hemingway.

Boyle clearly knows what he's doing. In Part II, he refers directly to WUTHERING HEIGHTS and in Part III he makes a sly reference to cheap novels. At these moments, he seems to be winking to his reader, conveying that his is a deliberate style choice and the approach that best captures the minds of Wright's crazed women. But if he's going to "wink" about the style to his readers, why not have a few moments of parody or caricature? As is, the gifted Boyle has written a historical novel that is a tribute to melodrama.

I thought this was a fascinating book which made me feel like I really knew the characters. T.C. Boyle is an excellent writer and I will buy more of his books.

Suggestion: have a dictionary handy as you read this novel. I had to look up three words while reading the preface, alone. Highly recommended!