The Board of Destiny raises provocative and compelling questions about a topic that American literature has grappled with for centuries. Most centrally, the book is concerned with exploring this vexing and complex question: to what extent are we entitled to take full control of the direction of our lives, to do whatever it is we want to do; and to what extent should we accept that our responsibilities to others sometimes entail sacrificing our own dreams and desires?

Robert Marion, the protagonist of The Board of Destiny , decidedly leans toward self determination, asserting throughout that since his life is his life, since it's the only one he's got, and since it's not going to last forever, he should be able to do what he wants with it. What he wants when the novel opens is freedom-freedom especially from the nine-to-five corporate grind.

For him, that freedom takes the form of a protracted trip through Europe where, no longer forced to expend so much mental energy on his job, he does a lot of soul-searching.

But freedom, Robert discovers, also comes with a price-a price to himself and a price to those around him. Unlike Robert himself, his smart and beautiful girlfriend, Sarah, has no desire to leave their current life behind for a trek around Europe. That means that to fulfill his dream, Robert has to leave Sarah behind-a parting that's wrenching for both of them.

As a result, Robert leaves quite a number of broken hearts and bitter women in his wake. And the novel, while clearly advancing Robert's view that a man should have the right to live his own life as he chooses, doesn't shy away from airing the grievances of those who pay the price for his need for freedom.

Readers-especially women readers-may at times find Robert a bit of a cad. And one could certainly argue he is selfish, or at best careless of the feelings of others. But his repeated pleas on behalf of his desire to live as he chooses are heartfelt and sincere. The book invites a lot of soul searching about what it means to live a rich and fulfilling life, and about what it takes to find a balance between one's own dreams and one's responsibilities to other people.

Because it is so centrally concerned with big philosophical issues, The Board of Destiny sometimes reads less like a novel than a philosophical tract, in that Robert's repeated discourses with various acquaintances about the meaning of life overwhelm the story itself.

But the novel also takes us on a panoramic journey through Europe, bringing to life places that many of us will never get to know the way Robert does, because we're constrained by the ties of our everyday lives.

Therein lies the novel's strongest appeal-it allows us to live vicariously through Robert, to act out fantasies many people share with him but would never actually set in motion as he does, and, as a result, to have a tantalizing glimpse of a road most of us will never travel.

Reviewed by Leslie Haynsworth, assistant

professor of English, Columbia College