"The Natural" by Bernard Malamud: I had intended to review "The Natural" back in April to commemorate the start of baseball season, so I'm only three months behind schedule. I guess now I can review it to commemorate the Major League Baseball trade deadline.

It's rare to encounter a book inferior to its movie version. In my experience, the book is always superior. Off hand, I can't even think of an exception. Until now.

There's really no way to discuss "The Natural" without comparing it to the 1984 film starring Robert Redford. But I'll give it a shot, at least at first.

When the book opens, Roy Hobbs, a 19-year-old baseball phenom, is traveling to Chicago for a tryout with the Cubs. Sam, a drunken old scout on his last legs, discovered Roy in some small Midwestern town and sees the kid as his salvation. On the train ride, Sam recognizes famous sportswriter Max Mercy and Walt "The Whammer" Whambold, the premier slugger in professional baseball. Sam talks up Roy to the famous folk, but they're not buyin' what he's selling. The Whammer is busy putting the moves on a classy dame called Harriet Bird. He's got no time for rummies and punk kids.

But when the train stops at a carnival, Sam bets Roy can strike out the Whammer on three pitches. Looking for a way to impress Ms. Bird and seal the deal, the Whammer accepts the challenge. Big mistake. Roy makes short work of the home run king, blowing three fast ones right by him. When they get back on the train, Roy is the new apple of Ms. Bird's eye.

But did you ever meet a smoking hot chick on a train and it turns out she's a famous serial killer who murders top athletes? Yeah, well, the same thing happened to Roy. When they get to Chicago, Ms. Bird invites Roy to her hotel room. Roy shows up expecting a good time and gets treated to the business end of a revolver. I hate when that happens. It actually sounds a lot like my honeymoon.

Jump ahead 15 years. Roy, recovered from his gunshot wounds and just now resuming his baseball career, catches on with the fictional New York Knights. The team's manager, Pop Fisher, isn't thrilled to have a rookie 34-year-old right fielder, considering it just another embarrassment in a thoroughly dismal season. Roy isn't exactly welcomed by his younger teammates, either. It doesn't help that he carries around his own bat named Wonderboy that he carved out of a tree struck by lightning. Nerd alert. He quickly becomes the whipping boy for Bump Bailey, the club's star right fielder. Bump plays all sorts of practical jokes on Roy, including the ol' switch-hotel-rooms-with-me-and-have-sex-with-my-girlfriend-while-I-use- your-room-to-cheat-on-her gag. Aw, it's always a classic. Of course, Bump's girlfriend just happens to be Pop's niece, Memo. And Roy falls in love with her after their "accidental" night together, only complicating matters.

But Roy just wants a chance to play baseball. He finally gets one when Bump gets benched during a game for lack of hustle. Roy is called on to pinch hit, and Pop tells him, "Knock the cover off the ball." Roy does as he's told, pulverizing the baseball with a crushing clout, splitting the cover and sending a swirling ball of string into the outfield for a game-winning triple. There's much rejoicing.

Realizing Roy's got the goods, Bailey picks up his play and retains the starting right field job, but his increased hustle causes him to run headlong into the outfield wall. Hard to get happy after that one. But one man's horrific demise is another's opportunity. Roy takes over in right field for his dead teammate and starts smacking home runs like a champ, leading the Knights on a charge up the standings. Roy's a true natural, dominating every aspect of the game. His exploits soon become legendary. No man can stop him. Ah, but dames are trouble.

Roy's prodigious power sways the once frigid Memo. Pop warns Roy that she's bad luck, but Roy's the best there ever was. He doesn't need luck. Cue the hitting slump. The more he's with Memo, the worse Roy hits. His power disappears. The team begins to slide. Even the fans turn on him.

During a road game in Chicago, Roy is still mired in his horrendous drought when he comes to the plate in the ninth inning with a chance to win the game. When all seems hopeless, a lone figure stands in the crowd. It's a woman. Roy sees her and belts the winning homer. He's back.

The loyal fan is Iris Lemon. Roy tracks her down and the two have an affair. Roy's once again battering opposing pitchers, getting the Knights into playoff contention. But Roy sours on Iris once he learns she's a grandmother. It makes him feel old. He tries to rekindle things with Memo, but all the stress and hard living leads to an attack of high blood pressure, nearly killing him. The doctor tells him he can play in the season's deciding game, but he'll have to retire from baseball for good if he wants to live. Not knowing what he'll do without baseball and desperate for money, Roy accepts an offer from the Knights' unscrupulous owner to throw the game.

But Roy has a change of heart at the last minute. He goes up for his final plate appearance determined to win. And strikes out.

Afterwards, the story leaks that Roy threw the game. He'll never play baseball again. Worse yet, he'll always be remembered as a liar and a cheat. In the end, he doesn't get the money. He doesn't get the glory. And he doesn't get the girl. As the book closes, a small child who's heard tales of Roy's deceit confronts him, pleading, "Say it ain't true, Roy." The once mighty Hobbs can only cover his face and weep.

Yes, sir, that's a great ending. It's just the rest of the book that's brutal.

The first few pages of "The Natural" are terrible. The prose is amateurish. It's like there was a sale on adjectives. Thankfully, it eventually improves, finding a comfortable rhythm by the end of the book. But even at its best, Mr. Malamud's style isn't very memorable.

The idea was golden, though. Roy's long, meandering journey through life and baseball, fraught with feminine temptations, makes him a modern Ulysses. Unfortunately, the book lacks the mythological appeal of the movie.

In the film, Robert Redford is a mythical hero of profound innocence who finds redemption through suffering. In the book, Roy Hobbs is, well, a jerk. He's an egotistical, selfish glutton, eating everything in sight and pursuing everything in a skirt. He's really only in it for wealth and fame. He wants to be the best to honor himself. In the movie, Roy wants to be the best to honor the game and, in turn, his dead father. And he eventually succeeds to honor his son. It's the father-son relationship that drives the film. There's no such dynamic in the book.

The book also suffers when it comes to the Iris character. In the movie, Iris, played by Glenn Close, embodies all that's beautiful and pure in Roy's life. She's always seen in white, an angelic vision amongst the chaos. They grew up together and were in love before Roy left for his tryout with the Cubs. After he got shot, he never returned home. He never knew she was pregnant with his son. She lifts him from his slump. She's his salvation.

In the book, Iris is just some broad. She's a brunette in a red dress. They have some fun, but it's nothing special. They didn't grow up together. There is no overriding symbolism. Later in the book, Iris is again in the crowd to cheer on Roy and he actually hits her with a foul ball. It's probably the dumbest thing I've ever read. And there are a lot of dumb things in this book. It's packed with every lame baseball cliche imaginable. Granted, maybe they weren't cliches in 1952, but Malamud doesn't miss a trick; there's even a sick kid who requests a home run. A great deal of the book is actually quite laughable.

And even though I loved the book's depressing ending, and it was a perfect reward for the novel's surly Roy Hobbs, it pales in comparison to the film. Robert Redford cracking the game- winning homer into the stadium lights and trotting around the bases under a shower of electrical sparks is truly one of the great moments in cinematic history. I defy anyone to watch it without smiling. Or how about when he breaks Wonderboy? Aw, that's good stuff. "Pick me out a winner, Bobby."

While the book and movie share almost identical plots, the motivation of their respective heroes is vastly different, making the film a timeless classic and the book a tolerable experience only interesting for its many faults. Then again, it did plant the seed. And the ending is swell. That's enough to earn it two shots. But do yourself a favor and just watch the movie. That's Roy Hobbs.

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