Have you ever wondered just what Superman does when he runs off to his Fortress of Solitude in the frozen North; when he tires of the humdrum life of saving Lois Lane and the rest of humanity from insidious villains and other catastrophes?

My guess is he's reading Jonathan Lethem. Anyone who can turn a lump of coal into a diamond should recognize literary gems.

The Man of Steel probably has a favorite from among the Lethem oeuvre, but just like his secret identity, he's not telling.

It might be Gun With Occasional Music (1994), the author's debut novel, a futuristic detective story that features a genetically altered kangaroo in trench coat and fedora; or Amnesia Moon (1995), a science fiction road novel suggestive of The Wizard of Oz.

It could be As She Climbed Across the Table (1997), where a scientist falls in love with a black hole; or Lethem's National Book Critics Circle Award-winning Motherless Brooklyn (1999), a first-person story starring a detective with Tourette syndrome.

But I'm putting my money on Lethem's newest novel. If you happen to be a master criminal, or someone with an ax to grind in Metropolis, now would be the time to act on it. Clark Kent is on vacation from the Daily Planet; there is a fire in the fireplace in the super cave in the Arctic; he is sitting in his easy chair and won't be back for a while, because he just got his copy of The Fortress of Solitude.

It is the 1970s in New York. On the West Coast the hippies are preaching peace and universal love - and sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. Yet neighborhoods in the boroughs are as isolated as Eskimo villages, and their brands of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll are not so peaceful.

When Dylan Edbus's artist father and flower-child mother move into a row house in the Gowanus section of Brooklyn, the boy is too young to realize that being the only white child on his block will color his life.

Dylan does his best to fit in. Although he does not excel at street games like stick ball and box ball, played with the ubiquitous "spaldeen" (a Spalding Hi-Bounce Ball), or "skully," a kind of combination of marbles and shuffleboard played with wax-filled bottle caps, his inherited artistic ability makes his chalk-drawn skully boards the best in the area.

But this is not enough to keep him from being mugged, robbed and yoked (put in a headlock so his pockets can be rifled). His mother feels that what doesn't kill him will make him strong, and his father is so involved in creating an animated motion picture that he doesn't notice, so it is up to Dylan to find a way to survive.

When Mingus Rude and his jazz-musician father move next door, a friendship forms that will be Dylan's salvation and his undoing.

Because of their racial difference, the friendship becomes increasingly complex as they grow older. Alone, they are just two bright young boys who share a passion for comic books and superheroes. But in the society in which they live, Mingus is a leader, while Dylan is an interloper who can never hope for inclusion.

Dylan has a secret. He has a ring that gives its wearer powers. When he wears the ring, he can fly. But like the ring in Tolkien's trilogy, this one will also exact a price on those who use it.

Mingus has another passion. He wants the world to know him as his alter-ego "Dose," the tag he paints on bridges, buildings and railroad cars. And Dylan's secret can help him to put his name where no others can. But the more he wears the ring, the more his life falls apart. And he and Dylan see less and less of each other.

Eventually, after Dylan has left for college and made his way to Berkely, and Mingus has spent much of his adult life in prison, the two will come back together and finish what they started when they were young.

The title of the book works as a metaphor for many of the characters. Dylan's father's fortress is his art. His mother finds hers in a hippie commune. Mingus's father withdraws into a solitude of drugs. Mingus becomes Dose - the world sees his name but does not know him. And Dylan escapes into his own mind where the world is as it should be, and his whiteness does not make him a pariah.

It would not be fair to reveal more. This is a novel to be savored, a book to be read slowly, a process of discovery for the reader, just as it is for the protagonist. The Fortress of Solitude is this generation's Catcher in the Rye, and Dylan Edbus its Holden Caulfield.

And chances are Lois Lane's grandchildren (Superman can't have kids, but that's another story) will be reading it, just as youngsters are currently reading J.D. Salinger's masterpiece.

Mark Graham is a retired English teacher and Unreal Worlds critic for the News. He lives in Arvada.