AT THE SIGN OF THE NAKED WAITER

Herrick's oh-so-mannered debut novel features a heroine who witnesses the occasional supernatural manifestation while pondering the meaning of life on earth. Each chapter catches Sarah in another significant passage from adolescence to adulthood. Sarah's world is usually filled with flowering trees, golden light, and a propensity for unexpected encounters with naked men- -one of whom has wings. The other constants are her brother Fred (a scientific genius seeking entry to parallel universes who gives her a frog he's created after discovering the secret of life) and best- friend-since-grade-school Robin (whose apparent schizophrenia is a bit of a problem but generally sweet and goofy and one of those things you accept in an old friend). The smug preciosity of the young-love chapters gives way as Sarah moves out in the world: she works as a public defender in the urban jungle, while the mysterious Black Feather takes society's revenge on people lacking in civility; she manages to maintain her somewhat fey outlook in the face of marriage, motherhood, Robin's deterioration, and Fred's death (apparently from AIDS). The self-consciously Victorian diction and imagery are perhaps meant to convey the sense that Sarah is an Alice whose Wonderland is the ordinary world of growing up: people respond ``crossly,'' sponges from outer space smell ``actually very lovely,'' and clouds resemble ``dirigibles dressed in white tea cozies.'' Individual chapters of genuine charm and humane appeal just manage to stand out amid much cloying whimsy.