The worst possible thing has happened to Corby Ledbetter, and he has only himself to blame.

No spoilers but the tragedy is such, in Wally Lamb's "The River Is Waiting," that Corby will forever be wracked by whether he can be forgiven — by himself, his wife, his small daughter or the rest of his family. The court, however, is not in a forgiving mood. He is sentenced to three years behind bars to ponder what he has done.

Corby's fate isn't entirely unexpected. He was drunk and on Ativan — prescribed for anxiety brought on after losing his job as a graphic artist — when the bad thing occurred. He owns up to his responsibilities (he doesn't act on an opportunity to lie about his situation in an attempt to ameliorate it, for instance) and begins attending AA meetings, but is it all lip service?

My take is, yes, it is — or at least it is for a good chunk of the novel.

Corby spends a lot of time beweeping his outcast state. He's to blame, for sure, but others — detectives investigating the case, prosecutors at trial, guards in prison — are out to get him. Still, he knows that the ongoing pity party isn't going to cut it, and he has to own up or shut up.

All this back-and-forthing makes Corby tiresome and unlikable. I feel little sympathy for him, nor do I particularly root for him. Other characters are more intriguing, such as Corby's therapist, his gay cellmate and the prison librarian who helps him out, but their presence seems to be solely in service to Corby's character. They are there to tell him he's not such a bad guy after all and provide opportunities for him to grow, however undeserving he may be.

"The River Is Waiting" deals with searching for forgiveness and taking responsibility.

What I haven't decided is whether Corby is unlikable by design. If not, then Lamb has written a conventional white-dude-goes-to-prison book with the expected plot points: hazing, bad food and poor conditions, various kinds of assault and so on. As Corby says before trial, "If I get sentenced to prison, I've got fear of the unknown about that. And fear of what I do know from watching shows like Oz and The Wire." It's all stuff we know, too.

But if Corby's unlikability is by design, and certainly Lamb is a writer who has earned the benefit of the doubt, then what to make of "The River Is Waiting"?

The key seems to be in Pieter Bruegel the Elder's "Landscape with the Fall of Icarus," which inspires a mural Corby paints in the prison library. Bruegel's 16th-century work depicts people going about their business, totally unaware as the mythological boy with wax wings flies too close to the sun and falls into the sea. All that's visible of Icarus, as he plunges into the water down in the corner of the canvas, is his pale leg.

Lamb takes that tension — between the greater world's lack of awareness of personal tragedy, as demonstrated in the painting, and the myth's tale of hubris (Icarus' father has the audacity to make the wings so he and his son can escape imprisonment) — and personifies it in Corby. The character's undesirable tendencies can either drown him in an uncaring world, or not. It's up to him.

What Lamb seems to have done is written the equivalent of one of those optical illusion drawings: Look at it one way and it's a vase; another way, it's two faces. In other words, you get to be the judge. For me, the jury is still out.

The River Is Waiting

By: Wally Lamb.

Publisher: Marysue Rucci Books, 466 pages.

Event: 7:30 p.m. Oct. 9, 11 a.m. Oct. 10, Pen Pals at Hopkins Center for the Arts, 1111 Mainstreet, Hopkins. $35-$59, supporthclib.org/pen-pals.