THE FINAL CLUB by Geoffrey Wolff
Knopf; 370 pages; $19.95
Snobbery, the sport of twits, is nearly dead, shoved rudely aside by ethnic and racial hatreds, homo- and heterophobia, religious and nationalistic furies, yuppie loathing, resentment of California and contempt of Congress. So much truly muscular antipathy whirls about these days that it is hard to care as deeply as you are supposed to -- hard even to remember -- that they won't let your son, the grocery bag boy, into their daughter's debutante ball. Which is why it is hard to care about Geoffrey Wolff's new novel.
Nathaniel Clay, Wolff's...