James Kaplan's second novel, Two Guys From Verona, takes place in a New Jersey suburb approximately one year from now—not enough time for things to change significantly, but with the millennium only a breath away, the heightened feelings of anxiety make it seem like a different world altogether. The title, an ill-advised riff on Shakespeare's two gentlemen, refers to Will and Joel, longtime friends in their 40s who never left their hometown, but whose lives have moved in opposite directions since high-school graduation. Will has nearly everything that defines success in suburbia: a wife, two kids, crippling mortgage payments, and the promise of a great financial windfall just around the corner. Joel, brighter and more eccentric, remains stuck in the past, still living with his mother and logging endless hours at a sub shop, where he develops a perverse obsession with a teenage girl. Two events, their 25th reunion and a New Year's Eve party, alter things in dramatic and unexpected ways. Kaplan supports the tired view that the suburbs are hell, dominated by bright corporate signposts and shallow notions about what makes a happy, meaningful life. As a result, Two Guys From Verona works better as soap opera than as social commentary; the knotty web of country-club affairs, real or suspected, is far more engaging than any larger statements about America on the brink. It's fitting that the character of Joel, a contrived and pretentious creation, is the subject of a book-jacket rave from Jay McInerney (Bright Lights, Big City). Kaplan's flashy prose, too, gives the impression of wit, but little of the real thing.