Guess who does all the work on the ark

The most interesting characters, though, are Noe's daughters-in-law, the young women drawn into this illustrious family from the far corners of the earth. Maine supplies them not only with exciting pasts - slavery, shipwreck, matriarchal cults - but surprisingly rich and subtle personalities that allow him to explore the complications that smart, curious women must have faced in ancient times (and not so ancient times).

The feminist theme here is clear. One daughter-in-law wonders if God might not be male and female, and she rejects with disgust the masculine fantasy of a wrathful creator. But we haven't entered "The Red Tent," Anita Diamant's blockbuster about Jacob's daughter, which captured every book club in America. Maine wears his feminism more lightly - in wry asides from an obedient wife or animal hunts pursued without complaint by Noe's daughters-in-law.

The novel's tone is tossed by the conflicting currents of this ancient myth, but Maine never sinks into any particular point of view. The story usually floats in the slightly abstract world of legend, but periodically takes on archaeological detail. One moment it rides a wave of religious satire; the next it comes to rest on a rock of faith. Slapstick - even scatological comedy - suddenly gives way to eddies of real tenderness. Noe's unwavering devotion to God's wisdom runs right up against his sons' devastating critique of His cruelty. Children's tales cut away to scenes of rough depravity. (Maine may think the global death sentence was a bit heavyhanded, but he doesn't want God's disgust to look entirely unjustified.)

Even in the small details, "The Preservationist" plays subtly with contradictory elements. For instance, on one hand, the author takes this old story literally, imagining a family of people who can "trace their ancestors back a thousand years to Adam himself, to Eden and the Fall." But on the other hand, during her long search for animals, one of the young wives notices a curious layering of sedimentary rock that future Creationists who believe in her family will have a difficult time explaining.

Maine's careful touch serves the story's most existential questions well, too. Once the rainbow appears, no one in this family can fathom the global catastrophe they've survived, but ultimately that problem is so big that it's easy to ignore. The tougher challenges are the smaller, common ones that have remained for all of us since the flood waters receded: How can faith survive the ebb of inspiration? How can siblings resist the temptation to compete for affection? How can the loss of a single person be more devastating than the destruction of the whole world?

In the end, it's not Noe or even Yahweh who gets the last word, but Mirn, the youngest daughter-in-law, once so silly, now so naturally profound. Reflecting on everything they've endured, she realizes how important and how difficult it already is to get the story right. It all comes down, she thinks, to the people's idea of God. Everything else flows from that, for good or ill.

• Ron Charles is the Monitor's book editor. Send comments about the book section toRon Charles.

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